


Return of Weapon X

by justsimplymeagain



Series: Weapon X [1]
Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:05:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justsimplymeagain/pseuds/justsimplymeagain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the slow return of memories comes an old project along with an animal worse the he is. Will Logan be recaptured and turned back to the weapon he was? Will the animal of a brother be of any help to Logan when it counts or become a problem too?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He was crouched on top of the school housing many mutant children and the X-Men themselves, a cigar lit and loosely hanging out of his mouth. Logan growled lowly, his mental state at the moment was bordering on psychotic and angry. His instincts were wound so tight that a branch snapping could set him off; it was a good thing ol' Chuck is keeping people away. Sniffing the air all he smelt was pollution and the stink of artificial shit kids like using and eating these days. It was close enough to make him want to gag.

No longer did people eat anything truly fresh. The image of him and someone he should know chasing down a deer, killing it, gloating over it and then eating it after it was cooked over a fire. At one point in his life, he didn't like things raw. Now however, he could care less.

No longer did they do anything the hard way, preferring the easy way of doing things and accomplishing only half-victories. The image of a small cabin, built by hand and distances walked rather then using one of those old cars. How old was he anyways?

Sad for the lot of them. Logan shifted as he turned his ear towards the exit he used to get here. A skylight he found, the sound of wheels turning caught his attention. Chuck was no doubt going to come playing the good ol' shrink again.

"Logan. Are you alright?" Xavier asked, concern clearly heard despite the calm approach. He was truly and honestly concerned for the welfare of Logan; he was a key player in the team even though everyone could function without his presence and for the man himself. Not to mention the welfare of everyone else around him was on his mind, the last thing Xavier needed was a repeat of what happened.

Yup, the old fool was trying the kind approach. If he had any brains he would have kept Logan far away from this place. Especially after the last incident after one of their humanitarian styled missions to keep the scared spineless mutants safe and keep peace between two hateful groups of people.

Logan didn't know what was wrong with him, but it was far from good.

_The mission was nearly complete, the sentinel was in pieces on the ground and Logan was healing from the wounds he received. But that didn't take away the tight feeling in his body, it was like he was a spring ready to rebound and snap. Logan knew it was a bad sign, something that shouldn't be happening. But since he started having those horrible nightmares of wars he didn't remember fighting and shaded figures he should know, he's been on edge. More so then usual._

_It was a dangerous time to be near him. He knew it. They didn't. The X-Men. The team he fought beside. The closes things he'd ever have to call friends. And Logan didn't get many of those. He prayed they wouldn't do something stupid around him. That would be a very, very bad thing. Logan could very well kill them, and he didn't want that. Not really… Did he? Damn, that was how tightly wound he was._

_He wanted more blood. The sentinel didn't bleed, it wasn't satisfying. It only provided a temporary outlet. Snarling softly to himself he paced on the outside of the group while One-Eye was checking over damage done to the team and the surroundings._

_"Logan?" Summers said, mainly to get his attention obviously, approaching him from the back an extra precaution the man used in order to insure that Logan was listening. Foolish. But Logan heard him coming and didn't react other then looking over his shoulder. Unfortunately for Logan, Fearless Leader kept yapping in that annoying way he does though this time it was directed towards everyone,_

_"We're leaving, when we get back we'll have to have a meeting to discuss what we did wrong and how we can improve it."_

_What a fuckin' boyscout. Made him sick._

_"Improvements that need to be made is simple bub." Logan snarled without thinking, he saw Kurt twitching his tail nervously. The blue elf obviously doesn't like it when people on the same team start confronting each other. Elf best be gettin' used to it, that's for sure. After all, Logan's on the team._

_He heard the gritting of teeth could be heard clearly, but only by Logan and no doubt Hank who was watching the situation with more calculating concern then normal. He knows something don't smell right. That Logan didn't smell right, too much animal in the scent. Too much aggression._

_"Do enlighten us, Wolverine." Summers nearly growled out but kept the tone sickly professional. Logan's going to kick his ass one of these days for that tone. Fearless Leader's gotta learn a few things about Logan. And if he didn't know those lessons by now Logan would no doubt love to become a 'Professor' and school the fool._

_"Perhaps we should wait for this until we return to our, base of operations?" Hank spoke, choosing his words carefully while his fur seemed to bristle. Yup, Hank knew something wasn't right and the animal in 'im knows to be extra cautious._

_"Logan. You have to talk to me, the emotions you are experiencing along with that memory is far from safe. For you, and everyone else." Xavier's words rung out, breaking Logan out of his dark reverie. Xavier was having trouble pinpointing the source of Logan's troubles because of both the turmoil and the fact that Logan wasn't letting him in all that much. But the glimpses he's caught told him that it resolved mainly around what happened not even a couple of day's ago. Which wasn't good._

_Logan scoffed as he shifted and his claws slide out. Logan stared at them with emotionless eyes. He could see his reflection in them, and frowned deeply. They weren't always metal, at one point they were bone. How he knew, he wasn't entirely sure. But he did. He knew full well that they weren't originally metal. In fact, like the rest of his skeleton. His claws were coated as well._

_Of course, Summers didn't take the kind advise given to him. No he opened his mouth one more time, Logan of course responded in kind. Verbally at first. But as the disagreement continued something snapped, something dangerous. Animal like._

_And with a roar, Wolverine had Cyclopes on the ground gasping for air as the wind was knocked out of him. Wolverine snarled angrily, his own hair seemed to stand on end more, becoming slightly more mane like and sideburns fanning out a little. It happened when he got in dangerous mindsets like this, when the animal was awake and aligned just right to come out. And come out it did, like a hurricane killin' and destroying everything else in its path._

_"Logan! No!" Someone screamed, fear and shock clearly heard in her voice. The sound of a glove sliding off. Don't do it kid. You don' want this in your head. A faint pleading whisper rang out but it was quickly swallowed up in the angry roar he gave while using his claws and hitting the ground right next to Cyclopes head. The man barely dodged. Lucky, but it won't happen a second time._

_"Stop it!" Another person yelled, male. Accent. Kurt. Shock was clearly heard in his voice, which was no doubt the reason he didn't react right away._

_A scream of pain, blood. Wolverine smiled in grim satisfaction as his claws sank deep into the collar bone while the other set dug deep into the shoulder. Struggling, it did nothing to deter him in his actions. Not until a roar caught his attention as a blue hand caught Wolverine by the throat while barking an order for someone to tend to the fallen leader._

_Wolverine hit the ground; it knocked the air out of him and pissed him of further then what he was. Orders were heard in the background and the sounds of pain and the scent of blood increasing. They weren't stopping the bleeding. Not quick enough, and if they didn't stop it in time then the fearless leader would no doubt die._

_Wolverine roared and sank his claws into the stomach of his attacker and ignored the angry pained roar he received for it as he pushed the blue feral mutant, Beast, off of him. Rolling away, Wolverine was already to his feet snarling away and claws out and bloody._

"Scott's doing fine, he's stable. If you want to know." Xavier stated calmly. Knowing that this would no doubt be on the feral's mind as well due to the glimpses he caught thus far. If Logan was anything like how he usually is, then it would no doubt be the source of the problem. And Xavier didn't have to be a psychic to understand that. After all, he as others learnt that Logan truly was a good guy despite his gruff rude outward appearance. It just took some patience and time to see that fact, though Logan rarely made it easy for anyone.

It wasn't always easy talking to someone when you were above them, but Logan's done that many times. So this was nothing new to him. He didn't budge to get closer to his unwanted company, but he didn't simply discount him either.

"'n Hank?" Logan asked, not entirely trusting himself to add anything to that. He didn't want to know what he could have slipped up and said, so keeping things simple was the easiest and best route to take. And all because of his emotions, how he hated them most of the time. What's wrong with him? He really needed a drink, and he wanted to drink until he felt that elusive buzz.

"He's healing, they both are. How are you doing?" Xavier answered calmly, he was fully aware of the wariness everyone had towards Logan was now worse and they to some degree distrusted him. This situation would be hard to rectify, but it could be done. In due time. But it all depended on whether or not Logan planned on sticking around. And that was a probable situation at this point after all why would Logan want to stick around with so much silent animosity towards him?

"Good." Logan said as he got up and re-entered the school, landing near the spot Xavier was. Despite the extra weight the adamantium created, Logan could be quite graceful when he wanted to be. It was a rare thing to say though; Logan rarely put any effort in being graceful. Just well placed hits and savage ferocity that rarely could be matched.

Logan stared at Xavier for a moment, making eye contact simply out of instinct in a silent form of challenge for authority. A pointless thing that didn't need to be done, but Logan couldn't stop himself from doing it. What was wrong with him?

"What are you planning to do?" Xavier asked, he could sense deep needs and let the challenge in the air and not acknowledge it. Too much. Something told him Logan didn't know why he was challenging him either, so it was one of those things that were best to just ignore. Something that normally in most situations wasn't a wise thing to do, but Xavier knew what he was doing.

"Ain't your business bub." Logan answered, his eyes narrowing as he stalked off towards his room. Ignoring the imploring look he got from Rogue on his way there. He ignored her and everyone else who watched him warily. It made him feel cornered, trapped and angry. He hated it when people stared at him, it made him feel studied and vulnerable. Laid bare somehow. He hated it. Snarling slightly he slammed the door behind him and leant against the door touching his forehead to it for a moment before turning around and pacing the room anxiously for a few minutes until he found a corner far away from both the window and the doors to the bathroom and into the hallway.

Grabbing his head he took handfuls of hair as he slide down the wall in a fetal crouched position growling. Logan hated nearly everything, how he could smell the scent of death and decay. How he swore he was just fighting in a war, how he felt very lost at the moment. Lost and alone, and worse he felt betrayed by something, someone or even people. And what made it a hundred times worse, it was all in his head. None of that was in this room; it was just him and the room.

After a half an hour or so he looked up and loosened his grip on his head, seeing his duffle bag with his cloths still in it Logan stood up and cleared out the rest of his room. Not really planning on anything or even thinking things through, all he knew was that he didn't know what was happening to him but he had to get out of here. He had to leave and now. Shattering picture frames he took the few pictures he had and shoved them into the duffle bag as well and quickly made a beeline towards the back exit, leaving a mess back in the room and not caring that he did all the same. Unfortunately Rogue, the perceptive little girl was waiting for him. He wished she wasn't.

"You're leaving?" Rogue asked, her throat felt like it was tightening up with her need to cry. She didn't want him to leave, he was everything to her. Hell at one time she had a crush on him, but grew out of it as soon as she realized that her crush would never grow beyond that in her. And it wouldn't be welcomed by the older man anyways.

"Ya." Logan answered, shifting uncomfortably while fighting off the temptation to leave without saying a single word to her. But, even with the changes he couldn't bring himself to do that. Not to the kid, she was important to him.

"Are you coming back?" Rogue asked, slightly hopeful as she looked at him imploringly.

"Ain't sure 'bout that yet." Logan said as he pushed the door open slightly, she was fighting off the temptation to both cry and latch onto him like a kid would. Brave girl. Seeing nothing more here to do Logan just left. Take care of yourself kid. Logan thought, while the cool night air greeted him. He wasn't stealing Summers bike, which no doubt would be a sign there about when he was coming back. If he was ever coming back, which a part of him doubted that he would.

_"Can you run little brother?"_

Logan walked until he reached a motorcycle shop, he might as well buy himself a ride. The faint echo of that question running through his mind. He didn't know what it meant or who said it for that matter so he didn't think too much about it as he paid for Harley Davidson and took off towards Canada. Something drew him there. Something did.


	2. Chapter 2

_He couldn't focus on anything. Nothing made sense to him._

_Pain..._

_His mind was hurting._

_His body was hurting, constantly aching._

_Why?_

_Why…_

_Pain!_

_What have they done to me!_

Logan's eyes snapped open and his claws out. That wasn't good; it felt too close to an animalistic state of panic. But where did that come from? What exactly was done to him in order to get that reaction out of him and so quickly? And more importantly, who did this to him.

He wasn't born with adamantium claws.

Snarling slightly he forced himself to stand up and get off of the ground where he slept leaning against his motorcycle hidden from the road. Glaring at the ground he had to will himself just to calm down enough to slide his claws from view. Not to mention he had to get his breathing in control. This wasn't good. He had to get a hold of himself, the last thing he needed or wanted was to snap. But then again, where better? He wasn't around anyone and there was no one to annoy him which would only bring his anger onto them. Like it did with Summers and Hank.

Growling quietly to himself he decided on what he was going to do, pushing his bike further into the woods and out of view. Sure that no one would stumble on it by accident and that it was close enough to the road for him to leave later on, Logan took off deeper into the woods. Letting himself go as his inner animal howled in glee. He left his shirt and shoes behind as well. So all he felt underneath him was the ground.

It was exhilarating. And dangerous.

_Erase his memories…_

Logan wasn't sure where any of this was coming from, all he knew was that he hated that voice and it sounded familiar. Too familiar. Snarling angrily he pushed himself harder as he weaved through trees and bushes uncaring whether or not branches hit him or if he stepped on rocks or anything sharp. He had to outrun this, he had to kill something! Anything! Almost like a blessing he caught the scent of a bear, the scent wasn't even an hour old but it was starting to fade. That'll do.

Logan tracked it down, it wasn't hard. He knew how to track animals down better then most. Hell, he was your go too guy when you wanted something found. For the most part, but not when it came to his memories. His own god damn memories! Those were more elusive then good beer in a cheap bar! Baring his teeth he quickly approached it from it's left. It was grazing, alone. No cubs in sight or in the general area. It was obviously either male or without any cubs. Not that it would have stopped Logan now.

No, now he wasn't really fighting and killing as a man would, with the reasoning a man would need. If they needed a reason at all.

No now it was his mutant namesake. The animal. The Wolverine.

A roar ripped out of his throat, primitive and far from human. It startled the bear, but didn't scare it away. With a roar of its own and standing on its back legs to look bigger it swiped at Wolverine who had speed on his side and dodged. Looking bigger then he was did nothing but stir him on even more. Letting a grim but cruel smile slide onto his features Wolverine attacked again with a snarl catching the bear at the side but getting caught by the bear as it gone down on all four.

For the moment Wolverine was pinned on the ground and being gnawed on. That wouldn't do. Growling he ripped himself from its mouth causing more pain and more rage to come to the surface as he attacked again with fierceness only the bear could match. The fight between a natural animal and an unnatural animal continued, frightening the surrounding animals and birds out of the area.

It didn't last long once the boiling rage took hold of Wolverine. And the bear was nothing more then food for scavengers. He didn't feel any regret. It was either the bear or several people who made the foolish mistake of crossing his path. He had to wash the blood off, he couldn't go anywhere smelling and looking like he rolled in blood. That would bring more trouble then its worth. Shaking his head, forcing the last remnants of the Wolverine away, back into his mind like a horrible shadow it was he continued towards a stream he caught sight of a couple miles back.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Professor Xavier sat beside a healing Scott who was now allowed out of the infirmary as well as Hank. But Hank would no doubt stick around; he was rather fond of the laboratories down here.

"I'm glad he's gone…" Scott managed though bitterness and a tint of betrayed trust clearly heard in his voice. Logan wasn't an X-Man for long, only for a year including his escape to search for memories after the whole thing with Magneto and the Brotherhood. So far Magneto was still jailed in his plastic prison. So far. Scott hoped he would stay there; he didn't want or need more trouble the man could cause.

"Scott…" Professor Xavier started, sounding both understanding and diplomatic. He couldn't blame Scott for the feelings he was emitting though. The man could easily be diagnosed with post traumatic syndrome. He'll have to get a proper therapist in here that could help Scott and Hank should they need it. Or even if they don't, he'd rather be safe then sorry. He didn't want any pro-longing harm come to his X-Men. That would be detrimental to every goal the X-Men have.

"He's not trustworthy, he proved that much already! He attacked me, tried to kill me and attacked Hank when he tried to help me. I'm thankful that Hank decided to join not too long after Logan went to Alkali Lake." Scott fumed, this wasn't really his nature to be outspoken like this about someone. Especially someone the Professor chosen because he trusted and believed in the man's choices. But with Logan, he couldn't help but question and wonder if his fellow mutant was either an animal or a man. Sometimes he swore you couldn't tell the two apart with the grouchy moods that could end with a brawl. Damn. He hated this situation.

"You also have to understand, Logan is under a lot of strain from…" Professor Xavier said after a few minutes, he let Scott come down a little first before he tried to make his point. He was worried, would this mean there would be no choice in keeping the feral as an X-Man? There was no one else who would fit his credentials as both a hero and a killer. And even Professor Xavier understood the need for such actions even though he didn't like taking such actions.

It didn't help that his first choice didn't end so well.

_Professor Xavier sat across a man who spent his first few minutes here eating the raw steak and carving an happy face into the wooden table. He knew who the mutant was, and he knew that it wouldn't sit well with his students at first to have such a man from their past in their midst. But who better to get the deeds done that needed to be done as well as bettering himself and the world around him? Perhaps his goals were a little farfetched and not realistic, but he had to try._

  
_"Mr. Creed…" Professor Xavier started when he was interrupted by a cold firm correction from his current guest,_   
_"Sabretooth."_   


_Odd mutant name, dangerous and threatening. Purposely done no doubt for that reason alone. Most do._

_"Very well. Sabretooth, I'm here to make a proposition." Professor Xavier calmly stated, not letting himself be disturbed by the fact that his guest was eating the meat raw and uncaring whether or not the blood from the steak ran down his chin or dripped from his claws._

_"Oh? An' wha' would that be?" Sabretooth mockingly said, Professor Xavier wanted to frown at the tone of the man's voice but kept his face schooled._

_"To join my cause, to become one of the first X-Men." Professor Xavier calmly explained without missing a beat, almost like he was used to such uncouth behavior at a table._

_"Team X, X-Men. Wow, seems like I'm getting' all the invitations to club X. What for? What's in this for me." Sabretooth taunted with a sneer, despite the taunting tone there was no humor in the man's eyes at the moment. And he got straight to the point, something Professor Xavier could come to respect._

_"Well, to answer your first question. What for. By joining you will be doing something great, something that would no doubt change the very future everyone shares at some point or another. As for what's in it for you, you get to better yourself and learn how to utilize your mutation to its fullest extent and then push yourself further." Professor Xavier calmly explained as he folded his hands on his lap and waited for an answer. It was going to be either yes or no._

_Silence accompanied by a cold calculating expression directed his way. He couldn't help but note how the light seemed to reflect in Sabretooth's eyes, it reminded him of a cat. And the cold calculating look did more to remind him of such, it made him think that the man was trying to figure out if he wanted to kill him or play with him like a cat would to a lowly mouse. The man obviously had a superiority complex. But he could work with that._

_"If you don't, that's quite fine. I have another choice, perhaps you've met him. He was after all , for a time, apart of Team X." Professor Xavier calmly said after he got no answer right away. Seven times out of ten this was a good way of getting an answer. He pushed a folder over to the man who looked at it with a mixture of curiosity and disinterest._

_That got a reaction. A negative one that was filled with both hatred and killing intent. Something else, buried deep underneath the rage. Hurt? He couldn't be too sure without taking a deeper look. And that stood against what Professor Xavier believed in._

Professor Xavier was torn from his memory when Scott exclaimed,  
"From what? What could have caused his reaction?"

That was to be expected. Folding his hands in his lap he eyed his chosen replacement when he has to retire from his line of work. He already groomed the man to be a fine leader, and he knew that Scott would lead people properly and truly. He trusted in that fact.

"Nightmares. Memories, his own mutation for example. He has more on is plate then we give him credit for." Professor Xavier calmly provided as reasons, they would no doubt sound weak in Scott's ears though. That was to be expected though and proven when a muttered, "Doubtful…" reached his mind when Scott chose not to say anything at all. Verbally anyways.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

He couldn't believe it, he couldn't believe that he was allowed to restart this program after such a failure and lose of resources the first time around. But then again, Colonel Stryker wasn't complaining. He discovered so many different things about mutants, things that only led him to firmly believe that they should be either controlled or eradicated. The ones that will get controlled will be weapons, he already had a list of them made and running about freely.

Or at least, most of them. X-23 was one of the few remaining survivors of the weapons alive. She was still young, unfortunately not to be used against Weapon X yet, but soon. He couldn't help but muse on the fact that they would be such good killing partners when he conditions Weapon X again. It was only by luck that they got Weapon X back after the fool tore down the Island with his aggravating psychotic brother. Weapon X was tracked down to Japan with his memories coming back at an alarming rate.

The adamantium bullets didn't erase his memories, not permanently. Pity. But it did give them clues on what next. And they took those measures when they dragged him to Alkali Lake where they took a man and broke him down into nothing more then a hairy growling savage. After that, when the memories were as good as gone this time for good, they took an animal and made him into a weapon.

An improved and more controlled mutant killer.

The experiments they did on him helped further other experiments and saved the lives of the highest paying clients who needed new organs.

"And I have unlimited resources?" Colonel Stryker hummed, playing the bored look perfectly as he looked out a window. Ignoring the shapeshifter's eyes on his back. He had his ways of finding out what the senator was, though it wasn't easy. That's for sure. Colonel Stryker was rather proud of his abilities in finding things out.

"Yes. Just make sure you don't screw up this time and it ends up on national news. I can't be cleaning up after you like the Canadian Government had to twenty years ago with Alkali Lake. And let's not forget about that incident where you were holding mutant children." The President spoke, his words were grim like he knew he was doing wrong but unable to do anything else. He was defeated by this lowly Colonel who had a deep seeded hatred for some reason.

"Thank you Mr. President, you won't regret this." Colonel Stryker couldn't help but say, he wasn't a cruel man by nature but he had his moments. And with victories like this one. Why not?

"Just go." The President said firmly, angrily. He hated every minute of this; the man's presence was like poison that brought on suffering. It didn't help when he knew the man's record in the military and secret operations. They should have never let the man put together Team X. Those poor souls.

"Very well. Have a good day gentlemen." Colonel Stryker said as he proudly left the room. This situation was too good to be true.


	3. Chapter 3

On the road again Logan forced it to faster and faster as he made his way farther and farther from the states. He shouldn't have let himself get fooled, how could he believe that he could have found himself something like a home there? What foolish thinking. How could he be so stupid?

Logan growled lowly, he should have known his own temper and what he was would have gotten in the way. Though he couldn't help but faintly wonder what made him lose control. Sure he was that pensive before, but never did he turn around and attack his own teammates? He normally would have punched and left. Left to take care of the problem and vent that rage he had to hold in so much. It hurt.

But the rage he felt when he snapped was like the kind of rage and acting out he did when he first started to put things back together for himself. Hell, something still made him revert to some degree. After all, the bear wouldn't have died so horribly if he didn't revert.

Damn. He hated this.

"What the fuck's wrong with you bub..." Logan growled at himself as he turned sharply into a gas station ignoring the angry yells from the truck he cut off. He didn't care. Why should he? Unfortunately for the man in the truck he picked a fight with Logan. Logan braced himself and tensed in preparation to fight as the man stomped up to him, face red with anger.

"What the fuck's wrong with you buddy? Do you have any idea what you could've done? You a retard or something?" The man angrily snapped, spitting as he talked. What was with this man? He was just stiffly sitting on his hog, looking at him like he was the one who made the mistake. He wasn't the one who rudely cut someone off. He aught to teach the man a lesson about manners on the road.

Logan frowned as he used the sleeve of his leather jacket to wipe away the spit and snarled lightly. Was this man an idiot?

"Bub, you got one minute to back off, and I ain't askin' twice." Logan growled out, the man stunk of a hang over and had the last remaining tinge of red in his face from a late night of fun. Lucky bastard could get drunk. For a split second Logan envied him, but it didn't last long enough for Logan to fully note to himself.

"Or what?" The man said as he curled his lip slightly. This man with the stupid hair style was pissing him off with the attitude. Who did he think he was?

"Was hopin' you'd say that." Logan said as he grinned nastily, though he didn't give the man a chance to form a retort as he sent his fist into the man's face knocking him back and unconscious. Logan was going easy. His punches could feel like someone's hitting you with metal, and when he's punched it would feel like you're punching a wall of steal. It doesn't feel nice to say the least. Logan lit his cigar and filled his motorcycle up and left as soon as he slapped a twenty in front of the gas station worker.

~_~ Next section ~_~

Stryker stood in a rather large laboratory, everything looked and smelled new. So unlike his old base at Alkali Lake where it still had damage in area's Weapon X's claws scratched. He escaped before they could truly understand his true potential. But thankfully, Stryker had way's of getting his weapons to come home. To get control of them. All with the help of triggers, Weapon X was harder then X-23 because they had more time with X-23 and they had controlled tests to show that it works or not.

With Weapon X they had to throw something together and hoped that it worked. It didn't. All it did was set him in a very bad mood; the results though were the same. Unfortunately the Summers brat survived as did his blue companion, Hank McCoy. Something that would no doubt have to be fixed.

But for now he had more pressing matters to tend to. They had a new shipment of mutants coming in. New experiments, one was a type of mutant who could blind senses altogether. That would be useful to put mutants with keen senses in a vulnerable state. She was young, at least twenty years old. Orphaned at a young age and barely knew anyone. She wouldn't be missed. They had to condition her though after all they didn't want her to have a mind of her own. Poor thing.

Not to mention, the information he gathered from the mutant now caged in plastic was interesting. He wouldn't do anything about that though, no first he had to gather his weapons for his other goals then he would send those weapons after the children and teachers at Xavier's School for the Gifted. The foolish psychic would have to be spared in order to assist in getting rid of the rest of the freaks of the world. He'd keep his weapons though, if things are successful for his own purposes.

As for how they would gather the weapons, Weapon Xl wouldn't be too easy because of his unpredictable personality thanks to insanity. Although it always was a question of whether or not the man was insane. Stryker was sure he was. But his priority was low on the list.

Sabretooth maybe, but he was never a weapon. Just a foolish soldier who thought he was Stryker's equal when in fact he was just a tool. A tool that started out by bringing a weapon with him. A weapon that was always with his brother, those two were hard to but a wedge between them. But it worked, beautifully. Unfortunately it worked too well and both of them ruined a whole lot of things and ruined a good part of Stryker's life.

Smiling slightly, maybe he would send Weapon X after the old cat. A gift from Stryker, a thank you gift. Though he couldn't complain too much, after so many years of trying to set things right and back in motion things were starting to go right for a change. He was right when he made a decision back when Weapon X escaped the final time and everything crashed down around him.

"Doctor, how are the preparations for our latest guests?" Stryker asked his number one doctor, he's been with him since the start. Doctor Cornelius truly was a genius in these sort of things, he did wonders with Weapon X. They had to further it though. Behind him stood Dr. Sarah Kinney, she might be a problem. She was starting to get slightly attached to X-23. And they couldn't have the clone getting a mind of her own. The side effects of that was clear all thanks to Weapon X.

"Perfectly fine, ahead of schedule in fact. Although I am curious, if we can't condition patient number 1-01, what are we going to do then?" Doctor Cornelius asked as he skimmed through the file of patient 1-01. One standing for the threat level, one being the lowest. Zero one was the number of the mutant. Rather simple and ingenious. It would be a useful way of categorize the mutants who come through here. Weapons had a different numbering system.

"Harvest her abilities in a drug if need be. Do what you wish, if it comes to that." Stryker answered calmly, a nonchalant expression on his face. And he meant what he said. After all why wouldn't he mean what he said?

Stryker couldn't help but watch as emotions shifted through Dr. Kinney's expression but was covered up with excellent skill. Not good enough for him to not catch, foolish woman. But she didn't have to worry, her time will come. Right now she was useful. And so long as she was useful he'll put up with her soft ways.

"Very well." Doctor Cornelius stated as he filed away that information to use should the time come as he turned and left, he had things to work out. So he left Dr. Kinney with Colonel Stryker. He faintly hoped the Doctor wouldn't make a fool of herself. She was getting too attached to X-23.

Stryker only half listened when she filled him in on the newest developments in X-23. Only half interested, he was paying more attention to her tone and her expressions. They were schooled perfectly, she was well practiced. But he knew what he was looking for so he found it. When she was done he dismissed her then phoned up Dr. Rice and asked him about the things he sees and knows when it comes to X-23. He had to be sure to have enough evidence to warrant the death of a doctor that he would rather be using for his goal then have her killed. But make no mistake; he wouldn't pause in his order to have her killed. She was only a pawn. Everyone in this base was only a pawn to be used.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Sabretooth knew what happened with the runt. The no good loser. He snapped and attacked two of his new little friends. Two little pussy's who fought for the wheel-chair bound fool who tried to recruit him a good five years ago. That proved it there, they were monsters. Animals. Yet the lowlife decided to try and dress it up all pretty like, try to be something he wasn't. Now like the coward the runt was, he was running.

"Did I not teach 'im anythin'?" Sabretooth growled as he toyed with a rat who was trying it's hardest to escape. Biting and everything, thing was diseased as well but that didn't really concern Sabretooth. He was better then that, some infected rat won't affect him at all. Hell, if he felt like it he would laugh at its feeble attempts.

But he wasn't in the mood. And it showed as he squeezed the life out of it before discarding it aside. No right now he had other things on mind, things like the no good traitor. Which only made him angry.

"Didn't I not raise 'im better." Sabretooth snarled as he paced his small apartment angrily, his claws itching to cut into someone. After everything he's done for that no good fool turned pet, this was the thanks he gets? To be forgotten! To be discarded! They were brothers and brothers should be looking out for each other. Watching each other's back. Back to back like so many years, so many wars and fights.

Sure, Sabretooth could admit that he wasn't being a kind older brother. But then again, you had to be cruel to be kind in this situation. He had to show the runt how to be strong, how to survive by hurting him year after year. Keeping Jimmy on his toes, that's how he was being a good older brother even though he wasn't a kind one.

Clicking his claws on the window he leant against the window frame and surveyed the city outside his window. From here he could see drug deals going down, prostitutes selling themselves to John Doe's. Everyone scurrying around like ants in a picnic. They disgusted him, all of them. They stunk, they were too blind and the only time he found any use for any of them was when they could get him something or when he got the chance to bleed them dry. Why couldn't his brother just open his eyes like Sabretooth has?

"No good runt o' the family." Sabretooth growled. He wasn't even sure why he was agonizing over this situation at this point. He didn't know why his instincts were telling him that something bad was going to happen to his brother. He couldn't shake it and it was starting to make him anxious, and he wasn't someone you wanted to be around when he was anxious or angry for that matter. It just made the situation dangerous for everyone else.

Sniffing the air he nearly wanted to wrinkle his nose at the stench of the city, but he was rather used to it despite his distaste for it. Behind him was a destroyed couch that was still used, a dead body of a prostitute he lured in and a tattered old black jacket next to a newer jacket that had thick fur lining the collar and inside. Sabretooth always found it amusing on how fur would stick out of the sleeves as well as around his neck thanks to the fur inside and on the collar. He's been told it made him look like he had a lions mane. Sabretooth laughed at that when he heard it, and let the tailor who made it for him live only because he flattered him that time.


	4. Chapter 4

Logan found himself sitting at a small bar, the food sucked and was barely edible by most standards. Good thing his stomach could handle anything. Not to mention the smell made him light a cigar to drown out some of the stench of the place, it reminded him of a stall full of piss and shit. Bar fights broke out every five minutes it seemed like, and the burly bartender seemed to be the only one capable of getting a handle on the situation. His kind of place. Pity he wouldn't be able to stay a little longer.

"Anything more for you?" The burly bartender asked, gazing down at the shady looking man who kept eyeing the place up with a load of suspicion. He see's those eyes on so many people to pass through, people who seen too much and can't quite forget what they saw. No wonder the man was drinking bottle after bottle of alcohol. Something told him to look out for this one though; he was an obvious scrapper who was probably quite capable of killing.

"Nah, had 'nough." Logan answered as he stood up, now sign of any alcohol in his system despite fact that there were twelve empty bottles of beer in front of the place he sat. Quickly paying the man he left without another word, best be heading out. He didn't know why but something had him constantly moving. If he didn't know any better, he'd say he was running from something. Which was unlikely, Logan was never one to run away from things. Usually.

But this time, with those X-Geeks he didn't want to stick around. After the attack on the fearless leader and the school Muppet he didn't quite feel welcome. Kids were wary of him, almost like they expected him to just snap and attack them too. That fact hurt the worse out of this situation he had to admit because those were kids thinking that, he could handle adults thinking that but not kids. The X-Men didn't really turn their backs to him, a big sign of mistrust right there. He wouldn't be surprised if they were sleeping with knives under their pillows. Not that he could blame them, but still it hurt. Hurt worse then what he wanted to admit.

Sniffing the air, nothing was out of place so he moved on.

His instincts just wouldn't shut up though; they kept him checking his area and the scents in the air. He kept his ears tuned to everything around him. His instincts just kept telling him to watch his back, to not let his guard down. Like something was out to get him. His mind seemed to echo words that he never spoke. But someone did, someone he knew. Someone he might have came across in the last year. Somehow.

_"Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in."_

He recognized that voice, somehow from somewhere. He knew it sounded condescending. He hated the tone of that voice. Snarling softly he started his bike up. Rustling in the tree's caught his attention and his claws were instantly out until the people who were in the bushes and trees came out. Kids. Nothing but no good kids sneaking around. Not soldiers. Not tormentors. Not enemies but kids, harmless and brainless. Who gone around sneaking in the woods at night like they were something cool or whatever. Irritating pricks. He could tell the boys had those stupid baggy pants that hung down to their knees, what were they thinking. Did they not realize what that meant, or did they think in some stupid way that it was cool. Logan's been in prison plenty of times to know what baggy pants meant.

Shaking his head in both disgust and annoyance he took off.

His body ached, that was one thing that he couldn't help but focus more on. More so now then he usually does, but then again with metal for bones and a healing factor that has to take care of that problem he could understand why he was always in pain. It only served to remind him of the pain he experienced. Why he didn't know, who he wasn't sure of. But he did know that he hated them. Hated them with a passion.

He hated that he fallen so easily into a comfortable alliance. Hell, he hated a lot of things at the moment. Maybe that was why he was so on edge, why he attacked the fearless leader and the Muppet.

"Goddamn emotions… Shiftin' all the fuckin' time. Givin' me a damn headache." Logan growled lowly as he turned another curve then another. A part of him wished there was a way to just discard his emotions right now, so they wouldn't be so conflicted making him acknowledge his pain and feel cornered and tormented by them. He hated it. His claws inched forward, he could feel them coming out of the sheathes that were built right in his arms to house his claws. Soon they would really start cutting through everything. And his hands were specifically made to allow them to come out and still have good use of his fingers despite the fact that the bones and muscle been severed as his claws came out. Complicated shit, all of it. Or at least that's how Hank made it sound when he yapped about it. All Logan cared about was that they worked and did what they were meant to do when he needed them in order to do it.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Stryker had Logan's picture sent to every law enforcement out there, after all that was the best way to get a sighting of the rouge weapon. And it would be the easiest way to track him down. He would be sending a team after him, all of them mutants who were under his employ or control. Including Lady Deathstrike. She was the latest experiment of his, a beautiful piece of work and completely devoid of emotion and will. Just a weapon to fight and to kill.

Unfortunately the rest will just be soldiers with high powered tranquilizers and tasers that would no doubt be qualified as lethal. But for Logan, it would be enough to knock him on his ass.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

The image of him running down a dark cave like tunnel, blood covering him and incredible pain throbbing in his hands. Almost taking his hand off the bike in order to rub the knuckles of his other hand he had to remind himself that he had to keep hold of both handles with how fast he was going.

Sirens.

"Shit…" Logan snarled angrily as he looked over his shoulder and glared. Hard. He was far from happy; this wasn't the time to be dealing with authorities. Not with the echoes of pain, fear and the need to get out was fresh on his mind. What was wrong with him? He was tempted to run for it, but this wasn't Summer's bike so it only had normal speeds on it. There was no outrunning the damn cops.

Pulling over, reluctantly, he waited impatiently as the cop's stopped behind him. The RCMP, that only meant he was in BC somewhere. He really didn't know where because of the fact that all he was doing was riding. The two officers got out of the car.

"Turn off the bike." One of them ordered, hand on his gun. He really didn't like the looks of this guy, no helmet and riding at that speed. The man was either a biker of some sort, a drug addict or one of those freaks. A mutant. Better be safe then sorry, so he kept his hand on his gun. His partner did the same; she was just a rookie so she mimicked what he did in order to learn. Smart girl.

Logan noticed the hand on the gun and groaned slightly. Really? Were they serious? Did he have a target on his back or something? Growling slightly he angrily turned the bike off and crossed his arms.

"Good. Now get off the bike, back towards us and hands up." The officer ordered making sure each word was confident and firm. The man did what he was told, but that didn't stop the shock at how much the bike came up. How heavy was this guy?

Logan growled, this was so humiliating! He did what he was told, grudgingly. He could feel the bruising happening on his hands as his claws slide forward little by little. It was taking everything he had to hold them back and hidden from view. Showing his claws would get him shocked; the cops seemed to be nearly as wound up as he was. Like Summers and Hank were, like he was. That led to him nearly killing them. Led him to not being satisfied with the fact that the damn sentinel they destroyed didn't bleed.

These cops did. And Logan was genuinely afraid that he could snap at them like he did to two members of the team he used to be apart of. This wasn't good. He wasn't in a good state of mind, hasn't been for a good few weeks. Got worse as time gone on. He could very well snap. He knew it, they didn't. They came up behind him, took his wrists and moved them to behind his back. Handcuffing him. That only did worse for his mood.

Testing them slightly he turned and looked at the cops, they let him. He glared and hard. He gave them credit for not flinching, visibly.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?" The officer said, instinct kept him between himself and the rookie thanks to the fact that he was a father to a daughter around her age. Not to mention the glare they got was enough to turn his blood cold and alarm bells to sound. This man was a killer or something. Only people that nasty could glare like that. He had to give the rookie credit though, the girl didn't flinch. It'll go good for future situations if she could avoid flinching for this lowlife.

"Not fast 'nough." Logan growled angrily, his fists tightly behind him and bent at the wrists in order to give himself extra insurance that his claws won't come out feely. But knowing his luck, he wouldn't be surprised if they came out from the tops of his hands just for the sake of escaping.

"Do you think this is a joke?" The rookie said, she finally found a place to talk without getting reprimanded or finding out the hard way that it was the wrong time to speak in a situation like this. But the man was starting to irk her like no tomorrow. What an asshole. Reminded her of a man she once saw in a bar. He ended up killing someone in a fight. She was only ten at the time, but the man had more hair on his head. Like a mane and horrible things coming out of his hands. The man she saw didn't leave much left of the other guy. She was only able to sleep through the night when she was in her late teens. It took that long to get rid of the nightmares. They horrified her.

"Ain't nothin' to joke 'bout bub, jus' let me go." Logan growled, the damn broad was giving him that 'I recognize you from somewhere' look. Good thing she wasn't putting her finger on it yet, who knew where they met or what she might have seen. He couldn't say, so he was in the dark here. And he didn't like that feeling. If anything, that look was making his anxiety rise up more then it has been when he first saw.

"We can't do that, you broke the law by speeding. We have to right you up, and if you keep giving us trouble then we'll have to take you in." She pushed, determined to keep a strong foot in this situation. She had to. Her future as a cop was depending on it. She so badly wanted to be a cop. It filled her with pride because she wore the uniform. Her father was a RCMP, and she was determined to be one too. And she was, and she will remain one.

"Ain't gonna be the first law I broke…" Logan growled under his breath but he didn't say more. Not to them anyways. Damn clueless idiots. They should have just passed him by. But no, they had to be doing their damn job and now he looked like he was going to get booked. Wonderful. Wonder what they would say if he said he didn't know when he was born, or even what his last name was. They'd lock him up for good probably.

"Okay, you know what buddy. You're coming with us." The officer practically growled, if he heard correctly then they had a repeat offender on their hand. One way to deal with scum like that.

Somehow, someway he managed to keep himself under control and he wound up in the back of a smelly cop car.

"Son o' a bitch." Logan growled as he sat back angrily. Glaring out the window. He was just starting to like that bike.


	5. Chapter 5

Sabretooth stood amongst several fallen cops, New York's finest. The air stunk of blood, piss, fear and best of all death. He wasn't here on pleasure though, but who said you couldn't enjoy your job? And that was something Sabretooth did, he enjoyed what he did. Loved it in fact! His target was probably shaking in fear in a holding cage ready to testify against his client. And the client wanted the fool dead before the sun even started to rise. Not a problem, not when Anti-Mutant Riots were going down several places and needed to be quelled leaving only a handful back at headquarters.

If anything, this was too easy. Far too easy. On the television there were updates on the riots and about the senator who turned from against mutants to for. He doubted it was by will, hell he wouldn't be surprised if the senator was being either controlled or was replaced. Chuckling at that he proceeded to the back when the fax machine caught his attention. Usually he would just go by but this time out of pure curiosity he took a look.

The paper was still warm, and he could smell the warm ink. Never really bothered him, so long as he didn't get his nose shoved in it he's fine with the smell. But now wasn't the time to be musing on ink when he found himself staring at a picture of his brother. Capital letters were bolded on top of the page, missing. Bullshit. His brother just didn't disappear, he made himself annoyingly noticeable wherever he went whether it was a bar fight or playing a hero with those soft belly pawns.

One thing was for sure; Sabretooth understood a ploy to flush someone out when he saw one. Why? Frowning he eyed it and looked for any sign of who sent it. A phone number was on the bottom, not one he recognized. A phone was near him, so he made use of it. And impatiently waited for someone to answer.

"Hello?" A woman's voice answered, he could recognize the voice in the background though. Fighting off a growl he hung up and snarled angrily. Stryker. What was he doing, and what was he doing in connection to his brother? Especially now? Weapon X was stopped and cancelled some time ago. Surely the idiot wouldn't pull another failing stunt would he? After what happened with the Island and Wade?

Growling angrily he shoved the paper in his pocket and quickly executed his job leaving behind a bloody mess and the memory of an echoed scream behind. A satiated expression took over his features as he exited through a back window and took off into night as the building was swarmed by the swat team.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Stryker frowned slightly, who was that on the other end. No one answered his current tech; she was in charge of bringing him information when it came to Weapon X from law enforcement.

"Trace it." Stryker ordered. His conversation about God and how mutants were soulless forgotten and discarded devilish creatures who were destined to be sent back to hell. He truly did believe what he was saying. Believed it even more as the years gone by forcing him to witness what mutants could do and how they were spreading like a virus bent on killing off proper decent folks. Diseases, that's all mutants were. And like a disease they needed to be eradicated for good.

"Yes sir." She said, thanking whatever deity there was in stopping the conversation. She was starting to think the Colonel was insane, and truth was it wouldn't surprise her one bit. She wondered which bulletin they got. They sent out many different ones, some saying missing others said he was wanted for murder and other crimes.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

"I ain't getting' in that cell." Logan snarled angrily, handcuffed and glaring at everyone who was stuck in the holding cage. And cage was a better description of it. He could smell alcohol, vomit, shit, sweat, piss and everything else including scents of sex. Obviously plenty goes on when the lights were off. Consensual? He didn't know, didn't want to give a damn either. None of that changed the fact that he didn't want to get in it. And at this point there were four cops trying to get him in it.

He was tempted to break the handcuffs and make a break for it. But if he didn't get into a fight with them when he first got arrested, it didn't make sense fighting with them now. And five minutes later he found himself growling at a few other people in the cage while he stood against a wall, arms crossed and angry. What was he? Some kind of soft bellied push over? This situation was stupid, even more now that he allowed himself to get arrested.

Straining his ears he could pick up the sound of a fax machine printing something and hushed conversations. About him? What was on that paper? He concentrated harder on the conversation over the sound of some drunk puking up his guts in the same cage as he was. He hated the smell.

 _"Are you serious? This guy, that we just arrested is some sort of murderer?"_ A feminine voice said the same one of that young cop that arrested him. Murder? Of who? He didn't kill anyone this year as far as he knew? It didn't make sense, and what he was hearing made the cage feel even smaller.

 _"Seems to be that way. Look there's even a phone number, we're…"_ He couldn't listen anymore, he had to get out! He didn't murder anyone, he could swear it. But what if he had before he lost his memories? Would it be for that? If that was the cause, how did he know he didn't kill anyone? For all he knew he could be some sort of psychopath. No. No he was innocent, he was sure of it.

Growling slightly he pushed himself away from the wall.

"Dude, you got a quarter?" A tall man said. He looked down at the shorter man and wanted to sneer, what was with that hair cut? It looked like either horns or dog ears pointed back. He could bet his last five dollars that he could beat this man to a pulp. Although he couldn't figure out what the quarter was for, he just wanted one.

Logan noticed that he was drooling slightly and looked like he was having trouble standing up right. He stunk too, and Logan was rather hoping he wouldn't come too close. He didn't want to deal with the loser, so his only answer was a curled lip and a glare that forced the slobbering drunk to back off. Damn he was good at getting people to back off. The sound of metal sliding against metal drew the drunk's eyes downward and Logan watched as they widened in fear. The newest scent to join the rest. And Logan found he didn't mind that acidy smell for once.

"You're one of those freaks. Mutant?" The tall man accused. Those were knives, metal knives coming out of his knuckles. Who was this guy?

Logan ignored him completely and with one swipe the lock was in three parts and falling to the ground which caught everyone's attention though no one made a move due to both fear and cautiousness. Guess seeing his claws are a good sobering affect for drunks. Pity it couldn't be said for everyone. With a shove he pushed the door open and was free of the cage he was stuck in willingly. He had to go see what was going on, and why he was wanted for murder.

"Cops! Cops! The… The mutant… With metal knives coming out of his hands are getting out!" The drunk yelled, pointing right at the mutant who was glaring rather darkly at him. Thos eyes, those eyes scared him. They weren't the eyes of a normal man. They were the kind of eyes that pretty much said 'don't mess with me cause I can kill you' and rarely did he make that mistake despite how drunk he was. He wasn't a completely stupid drunk.

The sound of a few cops coming down the hallway drew his attention from the fool he would love nothing more then to tear a chunk out of to the cops coming his way. He could tell they were a good cop, perhaps that's why he wasn't fighting them so much when he was arrested or shoved into the cage. Damn. Not to mention it was weird now that he thought about it, he attacked One-Eye and the school's Muppet but not the cops when they pretty much did the same thing One-Eye did. Why? What was different from that time then this time?

And truth was, nothing much was different. Just the lack of the aftereffects of a finished battle pumping through his veins, but then again he always was more tense after battles and wars. Wasn't he? Though he didn't get the chance to think about it too much, it was stressful and giving him a headache. Not to me mention the quickly approaching cops who rounded the corner and pointed their weapons.

"Get down on the ground! Right now!" One officer ordered, his gun trained on a less vital part of the body. He didn't want to kill the man, and six years he's gone without having to fire a shot. He hoped that wouldn't change today, but by the looks of it. This guy was dangerous, a murderer and a mutant. It wasn't that he had anything against mutants but this one looked bad.

Logan growled, he could tell there was no other way out besides through them. And he didn't like the idea. It reminded him too much about something he couldn't name. But it was making him want to lash out, to try and escape to freedom in any way possible.

"One warnin'. Move out o' my way an' I ain't gonna gut any of ya." Logan snarled out, knowing he would no doubt get charged with threatening a cop but he could care less at the moment. He knew they couldn't, they're training and job wouldn't allow them to listen.

"Last warning!" The same officer who gave the first order yelled, signaling someone else to get ready to fire the tear gas.

Logan growled and shifted his footing. Tear gas was shot down the hall and Logan nearly roared in outrage. They shouldn't have done that! Because he felt his claws come out with an audible snikt that was a foretelling of how this would no doubt go down. His nose stung, eyes were burning and he was getting mad. Very, very mad. He charged, running low and fast. Arms bent at the elbows and claws pointing upward towards his targets as he connected with the one who shot the tear gas at him.

Logan smelt the blood before it registered what he just did. He just stabbed one officer who looked like a veteran in the chest. He won't survive tonight.

"Shit…" Logan cursed as he turned his attention to the officers who were standing up, shocked looks on their faces before they pulled the trigger. Hitting him every time. Panic no doubt was controlling their judgment, and luckily none of them shot their fallen comrade. It hurt, healing factor or not. It didn't take away from the pain. And getting shot hurt like a bitch, and only served to anger him further.

He roared.


	6. Chapter 6

Stryker couldn't stop the smile coming to his face even if he wanted to, Weapon X was playing his part beautifully and he wasn't even aware of it.

"Sir?" A young man spoke; he was in full uniform and proudly displayed it as his gun remained proudly holstered at his side. He was a soldier working for this state of the art project, and he was honored to be fighting for his country against such soulless creatures. His name was Elliot Morrison.

"What can I do for you?" Stryker asked calmly, pleasantly even as though what was coming was a normal conversation you would have in a regular café.

"Your orders? Do you want us to bring in Weapon X?" Elliot asked eager to please and perhaps when this whole thing is over get a promotion. And Colonel Stryker would be the best person to suck up to because he made things happen on a level even past the President it seemed like.

"Three squads of fifty." Stryker calmly stated as he put a few sheets of paper in a folder, the names of the three squads already chosen due to their scores and commitment was not as strong as the soldiers he was keeping close. They weren't bothered by what was seen in this faculty.

"Fifty sir? I mean, I understand…" Elliot asked, unsure about whether or not that was necessary. After all this was only one man. Right? What harm could one man, mutant or not do? A hand held up stopped him from saying much more.

"So son, you don't understand. I know what Weapon X is capable, he'll cut down one squad of fifty men easily. He may not remember but he has over a hundred years of experience ahead of us and the added advantage of being indestructible coupled with feral senses. He's more then a match. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about I worked with him over twenty years ago give or take a few years." Stryker explained the second he cut off the young soldier in front of him. The naïveté of the boy would soon be cut from him the second he met good old Logan.

Stryker couldn't help but nearly sneer at the boy's naïve ignorance turn to blind conviction and willingness to please. Pity the boy probably won't live past the extraction of Weapon X.

"Uh… Right! Yes sir." Elliot hurriedly said with confidence in his own ability to fulfill his order to the fullest. He wanted to promise that they would get the mutant back here within twenty four hours or less but decided that it would have been seen as sucking up a bit too much. Hell, if his older brother was here he'd probably sneer at him and tell him to just kneel down already. Then again, his older brother was always an ass.

"Very good So…" Stryker calmly started when the door to his office was thrown in causing a picture to fall off the wall causing Stryker to frown angrily. This place was depressing as it was; he didn't need pictures of his dead wife to be just disrespected like that. He couldn't wait to move out of Alkali Lake's base. The sooner the better and they would have better equipment to tend to their latest patients and their soon guest of honor.

Screams could be heard from broken mutants whose spirit was torn from them in every worse ways. Stryker was aware of everything that gone on in this base, even when the soldiers gave late night visits to the young woman in the mutant holds. The mess was always cleaned by next morning leaving a clean but sobbing mutant behind.

"Sir! Reports said that Magneto just broke out two hours ago!" A slightly bigger solder then Elliot burst in, he was frantic and a report that was faxed to them was held tightly in hand and slightly crumbled from his frantic movements in order to get here all the faster. This was important!

"How?" Stryker demanded, the disgrace to his late wife momentarily forgotten as he stood up and snatched the report from the man's hands and skimmed over it himself before pinning the man with a glare.

"Met…" The soldier nearly said while stumbling over his own words due to him rushing. What would they do? Someone like that out on the streets could harm people! He should be assigned to catching Magneto instead of assigned to catch this so called important weapon. What a foolish idea.

"I know metal, it's his element after all. How did he manage to get metal close to him?" Stryker nearly growled as he glared angrily, did this man take him for a fool? And what a show of disgrace for a solder of the USA! Stryker was disgusted.

"One of the security guards sir, he was showing signs of his iron being abnormally high. Magneto tore the metal right from his body sir." The man managed to say, he noted Elliot was watching silently from their left as he was reporting. Boy oh boy did the Colonel not look happy.

"And they still let him in!" Stryker yelled angrily, such negligence was a disgrace to everything Stryker stood for! He could feel his whole body vibrate with anger. This was outrageous!

"Yes sir. They got sloppy, now we counted five dead sir." The man said standing extra tall at this point as he held his hands at his side while he waited for what would come next. Probably more yelling, the man had a habit of yelling when he was angry.

"Damn it!" Stryker snapped, not so much for the dead but for their failure at keeping security up and efficient. Did he not set straight forward standards! Did he not make himself clear! Now look at what they did for their carelessness! They let a dangerous mutant terrorist back onto the streets.

"What about your plans sir?" Elliot asked, making sure to keep his tone more level then his fellow soldier while keeping his attention on the Colonel who seemed like he was going to blow his top and fill the room with lava or something along that line. He rarely saw the man as angry as he was a the moment.

"About cerebro? We will have to tend to that later, after we get the mutants in our way removed. Permanently if need be." Stryker calmly said as he glared at them all, they were fools. They didn't understand what he was trying to do, not by a long shot. Yes Magneto getting free would possibly cause a hindrance to his plans but it won't stop him! If God be willing, he will succeed.

"Yes sir." Elliot calmly stated with affirmation and conviction. Whatever was in store for those mutants, they won't stand a chance.

"How soon do you wish we leave?" The man who was calmer now that he had a bigger view of what's going on.

"Tomorrow night. Dismissed." Stryker calmly said as he sat down abruptly and eyed the report with scrutiny as they left his office rather quickly. What happened to good soldiers these days?

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Logan fled as soon as the cooling blood on his hands caught his attention and the disgusted churn in his stomach brought him to a halting awareness. What did he do? Logan cursed as he leant against a cold brick wall a few blocks away from the police station, holding his mouth in shock for a moment until the taste of bail and blood drove his stomach to heave and whatever he ate that day to come up.

"Oh fuck…" Logan cursed as he forced himself to move again until he found a public bathroom. He couldn't stand looking at himself right now; he was ashamed of his own lack of control. The mirror ended up getting punched leaving the reflection it gives off bloody and warped. Just like he was. A bitter laugh echoed quietly as he washed the blood from his hands and anywhere else he could see blood. He would need to change his cloths.

He needed to get away. Away from what his lack of control. Away from people. Just away. Which was very unusual for him given who he was. Because usually when he gets like this its trouble coming his way and Logan always heads straight forward towards that trouble to both meet it head on and stop them before they could do whatever it was they wanted to do. This time however, his instincts told him to just get away. To do what he hated to do and run.

Growling he quickly made his way out of the bathroom and hurried down outside and down the street. He saw a car, motor running and whoever left it went inside to quickly grab something to eat and pay for the gas that person just filled it with. Looking around he saw no one so he quickly got in seeing that it was already detached from the pump and took off, ignoring how the man came out screaming at him. The cops would be called, but they had things to worry about and a car theft wouldn't be on top of their priority list.

That'll give him time to put some distance between himself and this place.

The car he was in wasn't the cleanest and it smelled awful. A picture hung from the mirror of a woman and a child. He didn't care to take a good look at it, it wasn't his concern. His only concern was to get as much distance as the full tank would let him.

Along the way Logan turned on the radio, having to change the station from shit kids people listen to these days to the news he made sure to pay extra attention. It could save him from possible trouble along the way.

Not even twenty minutes of driving and pointless chit chat about the weather the good stuff started to come on, information that could be either useful for him or give him a heads up. He learnt that a Mutant terrorist broke out of a high security prison made especially for this no-name mutant. Though instinct told him the second it slipped about a plastic prison, Magneto was free. One more guy to avoid.

He also learnt that a warrant for his arrest was sent out to anyone listening. He was wanted for murder of six RCMP officers. Which meant the few he left alive ended up losing the battle against the injuries he left them with. Faintly he was glad that it wasn't a city sized police station instead of a small town, if it were there'd be more cops and more deaths. His description was within the report so anyone either listening or watching the news would learn how to spot him.

"Fuckin' great." Logan growled angrily as his wrists hurt from his claws trying to come out despite how his wrists were bent in order to keep them from coming out while he was driving. The pain only increased his bad mood and a low snarl resounded from him.

He had to disappear!

He had to hide, which pissed him off the most. He was the Wolverine! He wasn't the one who was suppose to be hiding like some coward, he was the one who sent the scumbags hiding! This situation was wrong, horribly wrong! Snarling angrily he straightened his wrists out and like he imagined they would, his claws sprung free leaving single drops of blood at the base. Three minutes, it took him to calm down enough to put them back in hiding as he slowed the car down. He didn't realize that he was speeding down the highway angrily.

He couldn't let himself get distracted like that! It could get him killed, somehow.


	7. Chapter 7

Logan wasn't sure how long he was driving for at this point but he knew it was now dark, and it looked like a storm was starting up. Natural or not? Probably was, Storm wouldn't be anywhere near these parts as far as he was aware. Why would they anyways, they'd probably be looking for Magneto. They should have killed him, it's a good way in keeping your enemies from coming back and haunting you.

Deciding that it was time to stop, being that he had to relieve himself. Despite having a healing factor, his bladder can only take so much. And being that there were no signs of outhouses or small gas stations anywhere he decided to use a tree, did it plenty of times before to really give a damn about it. He couldn't shake the feeling though that there was somebody missing, like there was suppose to be someone either driving or riding shotgun the entire drive. Hell, he was sure that at one time there was suppose to be someone there to have pissing contests with. Though he couldn't be sure on that one though, it seemed to be too farfetched to be him.

Then again, he didn't know himself all that well. Too many blank spots upstairs.

The first raindrop he felt on his bare shoulder gave way to a down pour of rain. Cursing lightly Logan just walked back to the car and got in; it seemed like a good time to sleep. He slept in storms before, so it wasn't a big bother. Pulling off the road more he made sure no one would knick the car or anything. Leaning back in the seat Logan took one last look around before closing his eyes and finally dozing off, he already knew it wouldn't be a good night's sleep but it'll be better then nothing.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Two days passed since Sabretooth stumbled on what was happening, and unfortunately for him he had a lot of things to think about. Things he didn't want to think about which sent him into a tailspin of a bad mood that cost over a thousand dollars in damages and the local morgue was busy. Not that he cared about that part. It was what he was thinking about that was bothering him far more then wanted.

Snarling angrily he glared at the crumpled piece of paper he held onto, a rouse to get his brother to show his face. And it probably would work far too easy, the runt got careless at times and these were situations he no doubt would get sloppy in. That's why he always needed someone watching his back, that's why he needed his older brother. But no, the damn goody-goody had to go storming off because their job asked him to do something unfriendly.

Who was he joking!

That's what they were. They were born this way. They were born crueler then apes. They were born crueler then men. And yet the damn runt didn't seem to understand that it was just the natural order of things. They were meant to be this way, meant to be on top of the food chain. Sabretooth was proud of it, but his damn brother was too naïve to accept the facts. They were what they were.

Sabretooth growled as he crossed a few scantly clad women near a dark alley way, this wasn't a friendly part of town and he fit in too well here. Not that he really cared. They jumped and he smirked, the frails obviously didn't know how lucky they just got it tonight. Lucky them.

Without a moments hesitation he crossed the street causing a taxi to slam on the brakes and curse at him. Sabretooth glowered at the man, which was enough to get the fool to keep going and quickly in order to avoid an actual conflict.

"Guess some people have brains after all." Sabretooth sneered as he entered the shady bar he frequented when he was in this part of the city, the woman were loose and easy and the men were willing to look the other way for the most part if he by chance dragged a frail away of if she made the mistake of going willingly with him to either behind the bar or the bathroom ending up the same way if he would have dragged her.

But he wasn't here for that, no for once he was here on more important things. He had to decide what he was going to do with his brother. And the whole problem that created. Like the whole problem of who's who in his mind. Logan, Jimmy, James, Wolverine. In a way they were all different people, James was his first friend. Jimmy was his brother. Wolverine was his enemy and Logan was a stranger.

And being that it pretty much was two names for most of their history, Logan and Jimmy, he had to decide who's who. And if he was helping his brother or a stranger. And helping a stranger didn't sit well with him. A stranger didn't mean anything. But a brother, that was family. That was blood. And for the longest time he believed that blood was thicker then water and his brother used to believe that too.

But he changed!

So Sabretooth did too!

And now, now that stranger. That brother needed his help. Needed the help of an older brother, and Sabretooth knew that he needed someone who didn't take up a mutant name to change his identity in ways that didn't include physical or legal. Sabretooth knew that wasn't Sabretooth. He knew it was Victor Creed, the animal he used to be before he became the same animal under the name of Sabretooth.

But could he? Could he really help his brother, could he just turn around and help the little traitor?

"What could I get you honey?" A woman, new worker obviously asked him. Sabretooth sneered at her for breaking him out of his thoughts, she had no right!

"Whisky 'n sweetcheeks, leave the bottle." Sabretooth answered as he took hold of the bottle and shot glass before she could disagree with him, she was smart enough to just leave. He watched her leave with clear disgust in his expression before turning to his drink and skip the glass altogether.

What to do?

Looking at the clock he noted that it was only 3 AM, he made his decision. He'll help, and if it was Logan rather then his brother. He'll make sure Logan disappears, he won't help that stranger. And his brother needed his help, but he didn't know where to look. He had to get into contact with old contacts to say the least. Smirking slightly he was actually looking forward to the upcoming hunt.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

_Logan walked the battle field he recognized from instinct and a photograph. World War 1, No man's land. Looking around he noted the barbed wire and idly stared at it. Did someone he know joke about it? Tripping on it? Who. Did he even fight here? Was that possible? How old would he be then?_

_Gunshots! Loud, he was being shot at, but by who? Logan hit the ground, instinct told him that it was useless. This was called 'No man's Land' for a good reason. It was pretty much a free for all, most soldiers got shot and killed here from enemy soldiers snipers or lucky shots from other enemy soldiers. Snarling angrily his claws out, but what was he laying on? Looking down he noticed he was on bodies. Hundreds of bodies!_

_Yelling out from surprise Logan stood up as quickly as he could, nearly stumbling over a young soldier's body. Wrong uniform? Civil War. How?_

_"What the fuck are you doin' to me!" Logan yelled out to the blackened sky. Red? Was that even possible! This was a dream. A nightmare. It had to be! Without a moments hesitation he took off and he didn't care which direction. Claws still out and a murderous feeling coursed through his veins as he practically jumped over the barb wire and into an enemy's trench. He was here. He killed people here. No not people, enemies? But weren't your enemies people too?_

_The only thing was, he didn't find was enemies ready to shoot him dead. He found blood, gallons of it. The trench was filled with it. He could practically taste it in his mouth. Scrambling out of the blood he found himself standing in bodies of soldiers, civilians, woman, children, the elderly and animals. They were all dead, rotting and faceless!_

_Fear! He was afraid! Afraid and angry, hurt and confused._

_"Let me wake up!" Logan snarled angrily at the blood red skies and at the bodies below him. He took off running as fast as he could, he didn't know where. Hell he didn't even register that he wasn't running in rotting bodies anymore, didn't register that he was nude with wires and things hanging off of his waist. He didn't stop until he stopped in front of a mansion's door. He felt so weak, so lost._

_"Let me in…" Logan found himself whimpering, and hating himself for sounding so weak and helpless. He was cold. Why was he cold? Why did he hear a child yelling? Roaring?_

_Unfortunately he couldn't rest to figure all of that out, in the distance he could have sworn he heard people walking and orders to shoot on sight being called. The air, it was still filled with rot. Blood. Fear. His? He didn't know._

_"I'll kill you. All of you!" Logan snarled angrily, loudly while not moving from his curled up fetal position against a door he didn't recognize._

Logan woke up, panting looking around wildly. He was dreaming, it was just a dream! Snarling angrily he sat up angrily and started the car. He had to get out of here. The taste of blood still thick in his throat as he nearly drive into a car coming his way, snarling at the honking that was disappearing behind him as he put distance between himself and the angry driver. He saved the driver's life, with the way Logan was now he would have killed him if confronted.

"Soldiers… So many dead." Logan mumbled to himself as he whipped the cold sweat off his face as he rolled the window down and let the air rush in. There was no scent of rot in the air. No blood. No one trying to kill him. Safe? Unlikely. But he had to keep running, keep running from the darkness. Keep running from the biting claws of the darkness that was forever on his heals. Keep running. Never stopping. Can't ever stop.

"There were children… Woman… I couldn' o' did that. Not me… I wouldn't." Logan found himself saying, a few minutes later he found himself swerving to the side of the road where he slammed on the breaks. He was thankful that he didn't wear a seatbelt as he practically jumped out of the car and to the side of the road to heave. He didn't eat since yesterday morning and the sun was just starting to come up.

"Fuck…" Logan growled as he leant against the car. What should he do? He couldn't go back to Chuck's. Not now, not ever again. Not after what he did and what he can very well do again. He was too dangerous to be around there and around kids. They wouldn't be protected from him.


	8. Chapter 8

It took him three whole day's in order to actually track the runt down, and find him in an out of the way town. Sabretooth would have to head that way, and hope the runt didn't move on by the time he got there. Snarling slightly he couldn't help but consider the runt nothing more then an aggravation that wasn't needed. Still after twenty some years Sabretooth was getting bored of wondering the globe without his little brother. It wasn't fun like it was in the beginning, he didn't completely admit it but he missed the fights that started with moral disagreements.

Good times.

Clicking his claws against the dash of his borrowed car, the frail left rotting in the trunk. Good times. Sneering he checked her purse for cash, found it along with a few credit cards. Everything else was thrown out the window. It wasn't like he needed money or anything of that sort. He was good with getting money and setting up bank accounts and kept them open for twenty years before closing them and opening new ones. He did it in a manner that nobody would say anything if he by chance used the same name, money and the threat of murdering that said person did wonders in keeping them quiet. And when that failed, he had cash hidden away in places only he and his brother knew about. And considering his brother's currently M.I.A only Sabretooth knew the locations.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Four day's passed, uneventfully much to Professor Xavier's obvious concern. Scott seemed to be happier without him, less confrontations and the threat of a confrontation. The hallways and a few rooms had holes repaired and fresh paint covering the evidence on barely contained rage and lethal tantrum's from their missing feral mutant.

He knew Logan didn't really like being called mutant all that much; it was nearly the same as being called an animal. Something other then a man, and Logan fought tooth and nail to be a man instead of a weapon or an animal. Professor Xavier was fully aware of this from the few times he's ventured into the man's mind. A majority of the time it seemed like Logan's emotions and instincts shifted like a dark storm, like he was never fully conscious even when Logan seemed to be awake and aware.

And other times, there was calmness to his mind that caught a psychic's attention just like the dark storms of Logan's mind seemed to push psychics away. The feral was a puzzle to say the least and yet very simple at times, which contradicted how complicated the man could come across.

None of his other students and a majority of his X-Men could organize a simple task with militaristic precision involving more then one person just as quickly as he could care less about a mess on the floor or if he was sitting in someone else's spot and they wanted him to move.

None of this brought him back to the issue of the fact that there was now an empty spot on the X-Men, Logan's successfully disappeared and the bait's laid out around the country in search for Logan made Professor Xavier worried. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to just stand by and let a valued member walk off like this. Scott wouldn't be happy with the fact that Professor Xavier was looking for Logan in order to bring him back and have him be a valued part of the X-Men. His skills were necessary.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

"It's an awful shame really, that the girl didn't live through the tests." Stryker said as he regarded the fragile corpse of the young mutant they brought in, her number was 1-01. She didn't look twenty any more, the stress and pain she was put through made her age unknown on first glance. Not to mention he was aware that the guards tormented her when the cameras were turned off. Maybe if they did their jobs he'd let them get back at Wolverine for making the guards who they replaced from twenty years ago look foolish.

"Yes, although we managed to harvest her ability well enough to fabricate it and would have enough to tend to twenty people for five years in the laboratory beneath us next to the room where we have the Trigger located." Doctor Cornelius stated calmly, he hated being around the man. The screams were horrifying enough but he had a job to do, and he was a scientist. What else could he do?

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Five days in total. Five days since he left the school he called home for around a year at the most regardless of how long he stuck around or stayed away. Five days. Five long days. And now Logan found himself tired, stressed and barely finishing off the breakfast he ordered from a rather polite waitress who looked like she could fall asleep any moment. The woman most likely worked all night, but from what he overheard it was more likely that she was tending to a small infant at home. Probably what it was though Logan didn't really care to think too much into it.

"Any more coffee?" The very same waitress asked kindly, a polite smile gracing her face. She found herself concerned with the man's presence. He reminded her of the kind of men her mother once warned her to stay away from. He looked dangerous and seemed to be in a very foul mood. Poor thing.

"Nah, I ain't into coffee now darlin'." Logan answered as his ears picked up the sound of several vehicles doors opening. Place was probably about to get busy which meant it would be a good time for him to get moving, he's stuck around too long as it was. He had to get moving; his instincts always told him to keep moving, keep running. It was odd though that as of two days ago everything went quiet when it came to him. It probably was done on purpose; just like the missing and wanted signs he's found of himself in several different towns and cities.

"Okay, let me know if you want anything." She said kindly as she turned away from his table in order to walk away, immediately going to speak with a young woman who entered the restaurant, ready to take her order.

Logan watched over his shoulder. The woman gave him a one up and smiled pleasantly. It was a fake smile; he knew fake smiles when he saw them. Saw them plenty at the school from both children and the teachers. She didn't stay though, which was odd and slightly unexpected. Was she suppose to be meeting someone or something? Narrowing his eyes he stood up, the waitress who was kind to him now radiated fear and that made Logan anxious as she and everyone else suddenly disappeared. Why?

Curling his lip he trained his ears to the window as he prowled closer and peered out through the blinds. Black van's, cliché but now obvious on what was going to do as the side doors opened and nozzles of several heavy powered guns stuck out. An order was called through walkie-talkies, and Logan felt bullets pierce his flesh and pang off metal as he hit the ground. Then all he knew was pain.

He had to get moving, had to get out of the spray of bullets. But even that wasn't an easy thing too do as he nearly slipped a few times on spilt coffee and his own blood. Growling angrily he moved as quickly as he could but it was getting harder as he had to move through a rain of bullets and his own pain. He was accustomed to pain, but this was making it hard for him to do simple tasks.

He had to get out! He had to escape!

Roaring at them in defiance he threw himself through the back door and into the alleyway.

A firm grip hauled him out of the doorway and shoved him against the wall. Logan couldn't believe who he was staring at, and who it was who got him out of the way of the bullets that were still going strong. It was his enemy, Sabretooth! Snarling slightly he moved to shake him off but found that too be too difficult due to his healing factor fighting to heal the damage, he had to dig out bullets later though and that was going to hurt. He couldn't do that now, not in the presence of an enemy.

_We can't just let you walk away!_

Logan wasn't sure who said that, somehow he knew it was the man in front of him. Sometime long ago. How long he didn't know. Was it directed at him, it must have been if he was remembering it and finding it pulling on emotions of conflict. Why?

"Wha' the hell do ya want Sab…" Logan started to snarl out angrily as he focused more on the man, if you could call him that, instead of the hard wall and quieting gunshots. It won't take them long to move from plan A to plan B. Whatever that was. A low growl rumbled in his chest as Sabretooth interrupted him. How dare him!

"Victor, you damn well use my proper name runt." Victor growled out, his decision was finalized at this point as he corrected the stranger in front of him. The stranger who was impersonating his brother. Sacrilege! But there was nothing to do about that at this moment; other more pressing matters were demanding his attention.

"I ain't gotta do nothin'." Logan growled out angrily. How dare this animal dare to correct him. Him! Sabretooth had no right in that matter, it didn't matter that he smelt familiar. It didn't matter that they were the same in some areas. None of that mattered. None of that gave him even a sliver of a right to correct or even pass judgment on him. No one had that right!

A deep snarl came from Sabretooth; Logan matched it with a growl of his own. Logan was refusing to consider Sabretooth by anything other then Sabretooth despite the fact that his own instincts had other unknown names for him. Important names. Titles?

"We don' have time for this. They're going to keep comin' and they're goin' to capture ya runt. They're goin' to chain ya up like 'n animal and use ya as an attack dog." Victor angrily spat, his eyes cold and glaring into the runt who was face to face with him. This would feel nostalgic if not for the fact that he was getting an angry hateful look that had no recognition and if anything looked blank in compared to Jimmy's expression.

"Why do you care?" Logan asked suspiciously, the obvious answer to Logan would be one that Sabretooth admits that he doesn't care. That would be the acceptable answer in Logan's mind, he couldn't think of any other answer there would be. Even though there should be. Shouldn't there?

"They're comin' 'round back. Can you run?" Victor stated coldly, it was a better answer then how he might have answered. He didn't want to sound more insane then he probably was at this point in his life. After all, to most it wouldn't make sense if he said that he didn't care. That he only cared for Jimmy, the brother who walked away from him. And to most, Logan and Jimmy were the same. But the people who thought that were idiots. Victor knew better.

"Do I got a choice." Logan growled out, his hearing picked up the sound of footsteps coming his way. About twenty or more? Was that for real? Why was he the target of twenty people who he's never met before? Or at least he swore he never met before, but he couldn't be sure on that due to the fact that he makes enemies like there was no tomorrow. And some of those said enemies he didn't even remember making.

Like Deadpool for example, he had no idea how he made such a crazy enemy like that. The guy literally spoke more the Jubilee, and that girl knew how to talk a lot. Though unlike Jubilee, who he could at least understand to some degree unless she was with Rogue and Kitty then all three of them start going off a mile a minute. Deadpool talks about anything and everything from a decapitation to a pie recipe. Not to mention he keeps mentioning Liev Schreiber, Hugh something and other names he didn't care to listen too. He only was aware of two because the guy wouldn't stop talking about them. Or comics for that matter.

"No." Victor growled as he took hold of the runt's wrist and literally dragged him in the direction of a back door of another building. It would give them an out, so long as the ungrateful whelp co-operated. So far he did, albeit reluctantly as he half heartedly fought against grip Victor had on him. Too familiar to a time so long ago, only this time they ran through hallways and doors rather then tree's and bushes. The runt would fight soon, demand answers as if he knew everything and had a right to demand things.


	9. Chapter 9

Logan couldn't fight the nostalgic feeling this situation created, like he was running from something before. Like someone was leading him away from something before. He felt like it was something that happened so long ago, so very long ago. And it angered him because he couldn't put dates to it, names or even images to it. Just a feeling. Just one unhelpful feeling.

"Stop." Logan snarled as he stopped, he couldn't hear people chasing after them at the moment. Though Logan new that they wouldn't be giving up that easily, especially after the firepower they used against him in such a public place. They weren't joking, and they probably weren't fooling around either. Was this because he killed those cops? He didn't mean to, they just kept pushing their luck. They should have moved, they should have let him go.

But he shouldn't have gone with them either. It was his fault just as much as it was theirs.

Logan barely managed to retrieve his arm from the clawed grip, ignoring the bite from the claws as he did so and how his own blood ran down his hand. The few gashes he gained were nothing more then scratches that closed up seconds after it started to heal. Nothing but blood to prove they were ever there. Glaring at the man who he considered his worse enemy he's gained since his time with the X-Men.

Worse because he wasn't someone who was controlled by Magneto like the large blond one was as well as the fact that this one was more sadistic and conniving in nearly everything he did. Logan remembered the first 'birthday surprise' this man gave him. It was humiliating to say the least, he was beaten down and ended up watching as his girlfriend at the time was both tortured and killed in front of him as his birthday present. He hated him!

So that raised the question, why was he helping him? Unless Sabretooth, as the man introduced himself on his first birthday surprise, was saving all the hurt Logan can get for himself. The man was a sadistic bastard who gained pleasure in hurting others. Especially Logan. Logan swore the man had it out for him the worst. The blond who fought with Magneto was found dead not even a day later, and this man either stole the name Sabretooth or took it back. Logan couldn't remember which it was, his memory wasn't the greatest.

Satisfied that the other man wasn't going to force the issue of them going further or retaliate for any reason Logan eyed him cautiously. Too familiar. The man was familiar; Logan got that feeling every time he came up against hm. And Scott seemed particularly tense when he showed up. Logan wondered why.

"Why." Logan demanded, glaring as though he were daring Sabretooth to refuse to answer his question. It was confusing, having an enemy help him and it made him anxious and cautious as well. Those emotions never sat well with him before, and they weren't sitting well with him now. He felt cornered and he felt like he wanted to attack, the dulling pain he had from being shot at wasn't helping either. Despite how quick he healed, there were bullets stuck in him still and he would have to cut them out in order to heal properly without them sitting in his body where they didn't belong.

"Why what?" Victor demanded impatiently, he had a good reason what the runt meant but he had too much fun messing around with the ungrateful relative of his. Though Victor was having trouble deciding on who was demanding answers. Was it Logan, Wolverine or his brother?

"Why're you helpin' me?" Logan snarled out impatiently, like the bastard didn't know! He could hear orders being said, they were finally coming in through the same door Sabretooth and he entered.

"Who said I was helpin' you?" Victor taunted, he couldn't help but smirk cruelly. He picked up the sounds of orders and guns being checked and reloaded. Their scents were traveling down the hallway as well. It was time to go, and despite how he would love to kill them slowly he had other things he had to do first. Like get himself and the runt out of here. Cursing his good act for the year he took one step back into 'Logan's' space. He decided that this was a stranger, this was Logan. But he saw Jimmy in those eyes, buried but there. That made it okay. For now.

Logan growled. His claws were out, and his keen senses was telling him that trouble was near and it would soon be time to either run or defend himself. Not to mention, to attack Sabretooth for his taunts.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

She was in this sort of job since she was a teenager, and Rachael Rolland couldn't imagine herself in another job. Her father was in this job, her stories of a mutant with sharp metal claws used to catch her imagination when she was a child. It wasn't until Colonel William Stryker himself came and told her of her beloved father being killed on duty by the same mutant he used to tell her about. Weapon X.

How she despised that animal. He took away her only family, and here and now she had a chance to get back at him. Recapture that animal and simply watch as he was taken in and broken down to be nothing more then an attack dog on a very tight leash. She had no guilt in shooting at him. She had no guilt in the knowledge of what would be done to him. Her father's dog tags hung around her neck, a reminder of who she lost and who had to pay.

Weapon X managed to escape the café, but he won't escape the neighboring building that easily. She had the place surrounded, and despite the fact that he had the help of the turned traitor Victor Creed, Weapon X would be captured to it. She would see to it personally!

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Somehow Victor got 'Logan' to go with him without stabbing him from behind or the front. Wherever those claws that masqueraded as knives entered him, which no doubt would have left a sticky mess he'd have to deal with later and more air circulation in his cloths. And they made it down two more hallways and close to an exit to realize that the building was surrounded, but not evacuated. Which was curious in itself. Usually people tend to evacuate civilians in their own country more so then others, even Stryker ordered the evacuation of buildings when they were hunting mutants back when Team X was still more or less whole. But that was for Stryker's good image with the higher ups.

"We're surrounded." Logan snarled angrily, he did not like this. Stuck in a building with an enemy being surrounded by other enemies. He couldn't help but figure that the hold saying 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' had a morbid standing in this situation as he eyed the man standing next to him. So familiar, being around this man in a nasty situation felt too familiar. It made Logan confused.

"No really? Didn' know that." Victor snarled back as he glared down at 'Logan' who simply glared back at him. How he would love to show the runt his place, which was on the ground at his feet rather then standing next to him. But there was other things that was more important.

Silence from the runt was welcomed as Victor ducked out of sight of the high powered lights being shined through the windows on the doors. Snarling softly he kicked in another door, it led to an empty room. 'Logan' followed him. Nostalgic having the runt follow him without any form of hesitation like this. There were a lot of times in their lives where Victor had to supply the hiding spot, medical care and protection for the runt. So many times he had to re-break legs and arms for 'Jimmy' so he could heal right when his arms and legs healed wrong.

"What's the plan now genius?" Logan growled as he blocked the light from his eyes slightly and ducked out of sight in the empty room. He heard the growl but other then that gained no cutting remark for his sarcasm.

Victor snarled angrily at him, it was hard working with 'Logan'. The temptation to knock the fool down was becoming increasingly difficult to fight against.

"The plan is simple. Don't get caught." Victor snarled as he dodged the window and made it to the far wall and listened carefully. No one was in the room next door and he couldn't make out any signs of a trap or an ambush waiting for them. It was closer to the street; if they could get to a vehicle of some sort they'd be home-free. Then him and the runt would talk. A conversation as dreaded as it is was long overdue. Victor was not looking forward to it.

"Wow, that's brilliant. Why didn' I think o' that." Logan sneered as he eyed outside from just out of sight. He couldn't see an opening anywhere. How were they suppose to escape now that 'Einstein' got them stuck in a room in the building they were now trapped inside. And Logan didn't stand well for being trapped; in fact he had to keep himself restrained emotionally and keep the animal caged for as long as he could in order to not lose control. He had to hold onto the rage no matter how much it hurt to. And it hurt more then people realize they never knew how hard it was to not attack or lunge at people. They didn't understand how hard it was to be civil to assholes. Logan ignored the sharp glare he received.

Victor literally bit the inside of his mouth, tasting his own blood as he fought hard not to start a fight here and now. That mouth obviously belonged to 'Logan' and not 'Jimmy'. Sure Jimmy always back talked him but he didn't overstep his boundary. Not like Logan was. But then again, in situations like this they didn't have to talk at all. Just certain looks and they were able to work as one. Though he didn't expect 'Logan' to understand any of that, he was practically a temperamental pup in compared to him and 'Jimmy'.

"We'll go through the wall, this one in case ya didn' know. Then we'll pick the closes vehicle to us 'n go for that." Victor growled out impatiently and ignoring the sarcasm that he received only seconds earlier. No response. Good.

"Okay genius, which car would they let us get a hold o'?" Logan growled back, what a stupid idea. Sure it had merit but it was shortsighted.

Okay, so the runt didn't know how to keep that trap shut. That's something Victor's going to have to teach 'Logan' in the upcoming future. Victor was well aware of the risks, and the chances of getting to a vehicle. He knew they were going to get shot at and shot in various body parts. Hopefully not the head for either of them, that was something neither of them could afford at the moment. And they were going to have to fight and kill no matter which way it went.

"Let the sales person know when ya figure that out. In the meantime, I'll be goin' to whatever car's closes." Victor snarled angrily, the runt was really asking for it. Victor was trying his hardest to be nice, to be half way good here but 'Logan' wasn't making it easy. He should have cut his loses when 'Jimmy' left him with Team X and lived life for himself! But no, he had to stick around well enough to have a good idea of what the no good amnesiac fool was up to these days and keep toughening him up. Be cruel to be kind.

A growl from behind him caused him to smirk, it was still so easy. Oh so very easy. Though he focused more on his job and the next thing he did was started breaking his way through the wall. It wasn't quick enough so he beckoned the runt to come closer. He did, very wary like. Victor gave an innocent look which made 'Logan' even more wary with good reason. Victor ended up using 'Logan as a way through the wall by literally throwing him through it. No one was on the other side so it was okay.

A loud vibrating growl came from 'Logan'. He obviously didn't appreciate what Victor just did.

"Thanks runt." Victor mocked as he stepped through the hole and towards the door small door. There was a small window there. When they gone for a car, they would have to break into a run and would have to have it planned on whose driving and who's riding shotgun.


	10. Chapter 10

Stryker cursed loudly, he was beyond angry. One simple little mission to bring back one stupid ungrateful weapon was blown straight to hell! He paced angrily in his office, he cursed the day he crossed paths with the brothers in that cell. He had the faint idea of either leaving them or separating them and just taking the younger brother into his beloved project and let things be like that. But no, he got greedy and wanted both siblings to fight for him in Team X. Needlessly said, that didn't go well.

He sent more then enough to bring down twelve terrorists in order to capture Weapon X! And only half came back all thanks to Weapon X and Victor Creed who for the past year or so was going by Sabretooth again. The blond feral who tried to steal that name was killed rather horrifically and Stryker enjoyed looking at the pictures to some degree. One less mutant. One less spawn of the devil.

In the waiting room sat the leader of the team. He knew her since she was young, but that couldn't stop him from being firm with her. She failed, and that would require a lot of explaining to do then a reprimand. He had to reform a team, one with the same force but with unique abilities. Not to mention with weapons specialized for Weapon X, those would hold enough of a punch to be useful against both Victor Creed as well as Weapon X.

Swirling around a glass of whisky in contemplation he looked over surveillance photos that were taken of the two together during this mission and frowned. It looked as though Victor Creed was leading Weapon X out amongst the spray of bullets, carelessly shot at the two of them. It faintly made him wish Agent Zero was still alive, but he wasn't. Weapon X saw to that. At least with Agent Zero the bullet hit the mark. They were heading to a random vehicle. Lucky for the good Sergeant Rachael Rolland, she had enough sense of putting trackers in each vehicle in the area. They removed the unnecessary trackers after the two mutants escaped.

Stryker's eyes fell on the photo they got of the two of them escaping into the building that they used as shelter until they stole a car. Victor Creed was leading Weapon X by the wrist.

"Just like old days eh?" Stryker mocked into his drink as he downed the rest in a couple of gulps. Setting the glass down he picked the photo up and examined it, he was aware that Victor Creed would have led his brother away from trouble like that before Stryker even came across them. It was a brothers sort of thing to do he imagined. So it was no surprise to see such an action amongst the two estranged brothers. Still, it was a slight shocker when standing the photo up against their brief history of being enemies after the whole Liberty Island thing and Magneto.

Before that point, Stryker wasn't entirely positive if they crossed paths. Most likely not, records would have shown it in property damage no doubt. And from records he scavenged for after Liberty Island to present date showed they had a very volatile history. Ten civilians died during their scraps, one young Mariko from Tokyo who records shown had a off and on again relationship with Weapon X since five years before Professor Xavier came along in the weapons life. The crime scenes were brutal to look at; even Stryker had to turn away. Barely anything was left of the poor woman after Victor Creed was finished with her. And from the property damage, Weapon X was far from happy.

He wondered how things will go for the two violent feral mutants now. Hopefully they would fight and waist time in order for Stryker to catch up. Well, his team to catch up. He wasn't foolish enough to go head to head in any way with either mutant. He let out a slight snort of disgust; feral mutants were nothing more then animals in human skin. Worse then other mutants in his opinion.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Victor Creed winced inwardly at the pain; bullets never really got that easy to deal with. They hurt. But that never stopped him from charging someone despite the fact that they were shooting at him, shooting him. Pain set him on edge; it riled him and made him thirst for revenge. He knew the leader of the little mission was a frail. He would gain his revenge in the cruelest of ways. He will. That was a promise.

'Logan' was in the passenger seat healing, though he was a quicker healer then Victor was but not as quick as he used to be due to the adamantium. That didn't change the fact that he was a pup. Only a mere pup. And to be treated as such and Victor could be the one who trains this pup in how to behave. And questioning Victor is a definite wrong way to act, especially before going into the situation they did in order to get out.

"You didn' kill all o' them runt." Victor purred out past his own pain, and it came out mockingly cold. A tone he found himself rarely using with 'Jimmy' but this wasn't his brother. This was 'Logan', the foolish pup who was standing in his brother's place and wearing his brother's skin. A place he didn't belong. And Victor called 'Logan' runt for one reason only, 'Logan' was younger then Victor and younger then 'Jimmy'. 'Logan' was less important to him then 'Jimmy' was. So the insulting name runt fit perfectly. Size didn't come into the factor here.

A snarl was heard from his side and Victor grinned cruelly. 'Logan' was so easy to get going.

"I ain't like you, so why would I want to. We got away, tha's that." Logan snarled, what was with the attitude he was getting. So he didn't kill everyone, it didn't change the fact that they got away and managed to do it in a timely fashion. He couldn't get over the scent of Sabretooth though, it was nearly like his excluding the old scent of blood covered by fresh blood, sex good chance it was one-sided and whatever he decided to eat for the past week. All the other scents plus the city's scent made it hard for him to figure out why it smelt familiar nearly like how related people smelled. He couldn't be related to Sabretooth could he? He hoped not, who would want to be related to this monster?

"Sure ya ain't." Victor snorted, so familiar this conversation. But in truth, they weren't alike at all. Him and 'Jimmy' was. 'Logan' was an outsider and a stranger who was going to die. Victor would rip him away piece by piece if he had to.

A snarl. Victor grinned broadly as he sped down a street before turning to another and another, dodging cars and forcing bystanders to dodge him. They would need to switch vehicles and most likely drive in a random direction as far away from wherever this car will be ditched. He couldn't take any chances.

"I ain't." Logan insisted angrily as he snarled angrily and nearly snapped at Sabretooth every time he nearly hit someone or something. Too familiar. He kept getting hints of him sitting in another car bickering with someone on how to drive without nearly killing everyone else. But who was doing the driving? And when was this? Logan shook his head angrily and sat up straight, arms crossed and scowled.

"Explain why ya tend to not follow rules, how ya can kill some weakling 'n attack without hesitation." Victor pointed out casually as he slowed down after deciding which car to highjack so they could get farther away. He was curious on why the so called X-Men weren't trying to help his brother's imposter out? He'll make sure to ask later on. When they were away from this place. When they weren't threatened to be shot at right away. Which it might take a bit, he could hear sirens. And that was always a bad sign. They would have to drive carefully and follow the rules to fit in.

"I'm the best there is at what I do, that's why. And the people I kill are evil s.o.b's who deserve it." Logan growled angrily, sitting up straighter as soon as they started to slow down. The sirens were holding his attention as well.

"Uh-huh. Right whatever ya say runt. Whatever helps ya sleep at night." Victor said, he couldn't help but taunt 'Logan'. The runt was just too easy, far too easy. Easier then 'Jimmy' was. Victor eyed the car that he wanted, it was nice. Clean and was the type that could blend in.

A growl but nothing else was said. That caused Victor to chuckle as he stopped the car.

"What're you doin'?" Logan said angrily as he watched Sabretooth stop the car fully and start to get out. Logan opened the door on instinct, his keen senses on high alert and waiting for just about anything to happen. Anything that he would have to react to without seconds notice.

"We're switching cars, an' getting clean cloths." Victor stated matter-of-factly. He even went so far to have the clear expression that spelt out 'duh' on his face as he eyed the runt for a moment before approaching the car. Car first. Then cloths. There were priorities, and getting away first was one of them.

"And how are we goin' to do that?" Logan growled as he followed after Sabretooth reluctantly, only catching himself in his odd willingness to just follow this man. Why? He was Logan's enemy; Logan should be cutting his losses now and going off on his own! But his feet kept going in the same direction. How he hated that!

Victor found it oddly pleasing that the runt simply followed him blindly. For all the runt knew, he could be leading him right into a trap but lucky for him Victor wasn't. Chuckling slightly as he managed to open the door without causing too much damage. The window was down enough for him to squeeze a part of his arm in and his claws became very useful in hooking onto the lock in order to pull it up. As soon as the door was open he got in and unlocked the passenger's door. It was an older model and not one of the newer more annoying cars to drive. He could hotwire it easy. But first, he checked around for the keys just to be on the safe side.

None so he went ahead and hotwired the car.

"Where 'n the hell did ya learn that?" Logan growled, not really caring all that much but finding himself asking anyways. Why would he willingly start any sort of conversation with his enemy? It was stupid!

"Picked it up a while ago." Victor answered as the car started up with a healthy sound. It wouldn't die on him too soon. The owner must have been alerted because he came out yelling. Victor drove off. Lucky man, Victor could have killed him to silence his annoying voice. But 'Logan' would no doubt be in a bitchy mood because of it and that would ruin any chances of killing 'Logan' and saving 'Jimmy' from the people out to get his little brother.


	11. Chapter 11

Victor wasn't sure how long they were riding, how long they were running. But it's been at least two days so far and things weren't calming down for either of them. Not only did he have to deal with 'Logan' and his attitude problems but they both had to deal with other attacks from the dogs of the government. How they kept finding them, Victor couldn't honestly tell you because he didn't know.

Tracking systems of some sort? But how, the car they were in didn't have any form of GPS due to the fact that it was an older model. The radio was shattered, which was the result of 'Logan' needing to scratch something and the lack of agreement on what radio station to leave it on. They just didn't agree on anything, at least when it was 'Jimmy' with Victor they could stand the same type of stuff in the car, but that was so long ago.

Tags of some sort? Like what farmers use on cattle or what's used for pets these days?

"Pull over." Logan growled angrily, how did he manage to get himself into this situation. He just wanted to leave and get away from everything. How did his life become worse in such a short time, it honestly had to be a record.

Victor growled at being disturbed, he was trying to figure something out for the benefit of the both of them, 'Jimmy' would have known better but he had to remind himself that the ungrateful whelp sulking in the passenger seat knew absolutely nothing. Was practically a babe.

"Why." Victor forced out through gritted teeth as he rolled the window down, wanting something new to smell instead of the shell of his brother. Too nostalgic. Victor eyed the runt in the corner of his eye as the whelp shifted and sat up taller. Obviously trying to make himself more intimidating, it might work for other people but Victor wasn't other people. He was Victor Creed, he was Sabretooth and Sabretooth feared no man.

A low growl, frustration most likely from what Victor could hear. Smirking coldly at that he eyed the tree's idly while waiting for 'Logan' to simply use that mouth of his and ask for whatever he wanted to pull over. Training the runt was oddly fun.

Another growl, poor thing realized he actually had to talk.

"Gotta take a piss…" Logan forced out, muttering on how Victor was an asshole under his breath knowing full well the larger feral could hear him just fine. He hated being stuck with this man, hated it so much he wanted to paint the inside of this car red. But he had to fight to keep that darkness at bay; it was awfully hard to do lately. And he failed to do so back when he was with the X-Men. He found he actually missed those geeks and found himself awkwardly wondering how they were doing. Probably better off without me. Logan thought bitterly.

"Piss in a bottle." Victor sneered and heard an angry growl as a response.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Logan snarled angrily.

"Pull the fuckin' car over before me pissin' in the car will be your last problem, bub." Logan snarled angrily, his claws out to show that he was serious. For some reason this idiot wasn't taking him seriously. And that was a rather big mistake when it came to him. He spent fifteen years showing people that he wasn't a joke and wasn't someone to screw around with. Cut a bloody path at times in doing that and never looked back once.

Never.

Only when the temptation to look for who he was attracted his complete attention away from whatever it was he was doing at the time. It wasn't fair how some people knew him, and he knew nothing. Absolutely nothing. He didn't even know if 'Logan' was his real name. Or why he gone by Wolverine, what Wolverine meant to him if it meant anything else.

He could hear Sabretooth snarling in turn, Logan found it alarming but unimportant the same time. Like he heard it a thousand times before, knew it was one of annoyance rather then a threat. How? He didn't know, but he knew. Angrily the car swerved to the side and the brakes were slammed. Logan being who he was just gave a mocking smile with a curt,  
"Thank you." And with that he exited the car and walked down to the closes tree and relieved himself. Faintly aware that Sabretooth exited the car as well.

Logan looked around in front of him; it would be easy to get away. He was free from the situation he left behind and had only one enemy to worry about now. For now. Something told Logan that his enemies who shot at him back there would be after him. Logan would be better off alone, better off without Sabretooth. That and he didn't trust the man to truly have his back, why should he. They were enemies. So then why should Logan stick around?

Only that it felt too natural to be around the colder sadistic man near the car. Just like it was natural for him to hold beer the way he does, smoke a cigar and how he liked Harley's rather then normal every day motorcycles and cars.

"Don' even think abou' it runt. You won't get far." Victor purred, though his dark purr hide the annoyance he felt at the situation. It was just too damn irritating to deal with this brainless sorry sap who was good for nothing. At least when 'Logan' was 'Jimmy' this situation would be over and done with by now and they'd be driving again. Not Victor having to deter 'Logan' from the idea of running, the runt wouldn't last two days without him. Not even.

Logan snarled over his shoulder as he zipped himself up. Irritating class-a son of a bitch anyways.

"Can't a guy pee in peace?" Logan growled angrily as he stalked towards the car, glaring angrily at Sabretooth who looked too mockingly amused for his own good. Jackass. Logan thought angrily as he watched Sabretooth stand up again instead of leaning against the hood of the car.

"Obviously not." Victor mocked as he walked over to the driver, half shocked that 'Logan' didn't demand to drive. He might demand it in the future still, which was a situation he was obviously against. Victor didn't want the runt to screw things up. And in order for that to not happen, Victor had to have complete control.

"Asshole." Logan grunted as he slammed the passenger door and crossed his arms, not bothering with the seatbelt. Why should he, he'll heal anyways. This situation was maddening, it was too familiar and dare he say, normal.

"Cry me a river sweetheart." Victor purred, despite the wordings it was purely for fun. Nothing meant for it. Victor only cursed to himself inwardly afterwards, he wasn't suppose to be joking with 'Logan'. He didn't joke with anyone but his brother. Only with 'Jimmy'. Everyone else he mocks, taunts and is cruel too. Granted he's been known to do those things to 'Jimmy' but that was to teach is wayward sibling. Only to teach. Be cruel to be kind.

Logan snarled at the obvious joke. Sweetheart? Logan wasn't fond of that. But he let it go and instead just stared out the window watching things go by dispassionately. He wasn't even aware that a few hours passed until he looked at the clock. And the gas was nearly out. Hopefully there would be a gas station somewhere here.

_"We're brothers, Jimmy. You realize that? And brothers protect each other. You have to be hard now, hard so nothing can ever touch us." Who said this? Who was talking? Was it to him? Or was he the one who was talking? He didn't know, but he knew that it couldn't have been him. He would never have said those kind of words when he was a child. Would he?_

Logan didn't even realize he was holding his head or that Sabretooth was saying his name. Hell he didn't even realize there was a clawed hand gripping his shoulder or that his own claws were out. Not even when they lightly clicked together as he gripped his head.

_"I want to go home." Was that him? Did he say that? He was so confused to the point where his mind was in pain. HE was in pain. Why? Where was home?_

Logan growled a low and angry one. One that got most people nervous especially due to the fact that they didn't know how he was going to react.

"Let me out." Logan forced through gnashed teeth as he nearly pulled hair from his skull. Sure he got whispered voices of things he never remembered, or nightmares. But those were all when he was sleeping or in passing. This one, this one felt too strong. Was it a memory? He hoped so, but damn did it hurt. It felt like something bad happened, like something life changing. Why? How? He didn't know.

"Out… I need out…" Logan forced out. He felt the car slow down, he didn't wait for it to be fully stopped as he practically shot from the car ignoring the fact that he was called after and someone else was insulting him. Thud, the person dropped. Was he dead? Logan didn't know all he knew was he had to make it stop hurting. He kept walking as quick as he could away.

Finally he felt a strong grip on his shoulder and was spun around. Too familiar. This situation.

"Stop. Just stop walkin'. What the hell's wrong with ya?" Victor growled, hating the concern he was forced to suffer through for 'Logan'. 'Logan' wasn't his brother, he wasn't.

"I need to go…" Logan growled as he shrugged the grip off despite the light biting of clawed fingertips. He only made it a few steps before he found himself next to a tree, lightly he touched it before deciding it was as good as any to lean against. So he did, ignoring the presence of Vic-Sabretooth. He didn't want to consider the man by the name he gave, he was Sabretooth. Only Sabretooth.

"You can't, anyways where would you go? Canada? Mexico? Where?" Victor bite out cruelly as he took a few steps towards the area where 'Logan' was now sitting so limply. Pathetic. Victor nearly sneered.

"We can't. We stick together, no matter what, and take care of anyone who gets in our way. Can you do that, little brother?" He has a brother? Older or younger? Who? How? Where was he all this time? Did he even care? Everything was just so confusing. And the hopelessness and hopefulness of the words in his memory was distracting.

"Don' care… Gotta go." Logan muttered, he didn't even know he was sitting on the ground against a tree. He just wanted to fade right now; his moods were too unstable for him right now. And the memory or whatever it was made him too disoriented. Which was new, he's gone through how many years with whispered words and flashbacks he couldn't fully remember the next morning.

"We can't. Listen, you gotta trust me here. I. I know what I'm doing okay." Victor growled. Why did 'Logan' seem so hopelessly lost? Almost like, almost like 'Jimmy'. Almost. It was distracting, and making things unpredictable for Victor, and he hated that. Snarling inwardly he gripped the runt's arm and started back towards the car.

Logan only realized what was happening half way to the car before he growled angrily and ripped his arm from the clawed grip, uncaring that the claws left healing cuts. He heard the words 'mutant' and 'freak' from the gas station. The claws no doubt gave them away. Who cared anyways? Logan sure as hell didn't. Let them start something. His mood was shifting on him again.

"I ain't goin' no where. Not with you, not 'till you answer somethin' for me." Logan snarled out angrily, positioning his feet so that he could defend himself or attack. Either way, it was obvious he wasn't budging.

"We don' have time for this." Victor forced out, his lips curling in disgust and anger. 'Logan' was ruining everything! A low snarl worked it's way up from his chest to his throat, it was something that warned everyone that you don't mess with Victor Creed.

"Ain't movin' 'till I get that answer, Sabretooth." Logan reinforced as he glared at foolish people watching from inside of the gas station. He heard someone assume that the metal claws were knives. Idiot.

A growl before Sabretooth sighed irritably.

"What?" Victor forced out, unaware that the question would no doubt shock him. Or aware of the black vans coming this way from the opposite direction they came from. Trouble. And this situation failed to give him any preparation time.

"Who's Jimmy?" Logan asked. His honest curiosity for who this 'Jimmy' character was blanked out the raging instincts that told him to get away. To fight. To kill. To escape. He had to know. Needed to know, it was as important as breathing.


	12. Chapter 12

Such a simple question, with such a complicated answer. Victor hated that 'Logan' asked, hated that 'Logan' had the sheer audacity to even utter the nickname of his brother. His brother! 'Logan' had no right, none at all! Victor snarled. His vision threatened to go white as his rage firmly took hold. How dare he!

"Well?" Logan asked, not really liking the instant shift from annoyance to sheer anger. Logan could practically smell the rage coming off of him and nearly hear Sabretooth's heart pounding as adrenaline seemed to set in. All the signs point to a fight, one that no doubt would change the area's appearance from being a common gas station in the middle of no where to a battle field where blood and flesh feed worms.

The snarl turned to a growl but was cut off as Victor turned his attention to the sounds of vehicles. Someone was coming; this was not the best place for this showdown. Pity, he would love to show the ungrateful good for nothing sack of shit where his place was and why he should be more careful in what he asked.

"Damn…" Victor snarled as he eyed the cars with absolute distrust. He sniffed the air. Something wasn't right; he didn't even hear the sounds of the nosy fools in the small gas station anymore. He couldn't completely figure out how that was possible. When did they leave? Victor didn't like it; his instincts told him they were here too long. Too much time was wasted on the runt's poor timing, and now they could be in for trouble. Damn. He cursed 'Logan' for the thousandth time today.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Rachael cursed slightly, she was in a lot of trouble and this was her last chance to redeem herself. And she will not fail this time! With her was five mutants who were in complete control of Stryker and his orders even though he wasn't with her. Coward. And each of them looked inhuman with either physical traits but all of them with an emotionless expression on their faces and complete coldness in their eyes. She shivered to herself because of it.

Mutant 02-06, he was a mutant who had the ability to control sound. He had to have a muzzle on at all times until time came to use him against an enemy, a mere whisper could make ears bleed. His skin was normal like a human, but he possessed small ears. She figured it was to protect his own hearing to some degree from his ability. His number was tattooed right into his left arm. Faintly she couldn't help but note the similarities to what happened to Jews in that department. Even the number's meant something, she read that he was a level two mutant, not as much of a threat as some other mutants they gone after. He was the sixth mutant in that ward. Chosen for this mission because of his ability and its use against keen hearing.

Mutant 01-11, she was a mutant who had the ability to generate acid out of her very pores at whatever quantity she pleased or more correctly how much they pleased. She had protective gear on so her handlers wouldn't be harmed. She always had a thin sheen of acid on her skin. Rachael noted to herself that she saw that she had the ability to actually shoot the acid at you while watching a short video on each mutant. Her skin was hardened with a glass like appearance, and as fragile as normal skin. She had no hair; the acid ate it off her body when her mutation gene took hold. Her medical history said that she was operated on so that she would never be used to produce offspring. They didn't need her for that. Her number was on her right arm.

Mutant 01-30, he was a mutant similar to Mutant 01-11 only that he was able to give off thick fumes of poison. His skin was a sickly white to it and his hair had tints of purple, misguiding in its simple beauty much like most poisonous plants and animals. He was usually within a gas chamber, but the vaccine that staved off the affects protected those around him in the van. He was the only one who didn't rebel against his handlers from the start. Broken by his own mutation. She noted that his number was on his right arm as well.

Mutant 2-28, she was a mutant who looked fragile because few could really get close to her other then her handlers. She was trained so that she would protect anyone she was ordered to protect by a rather unique ability to generate electric force field that few could get by. She was mute, and from the notes Rachael read she didn't even utter a whisper of pain when tested on.

There were soldiers with her in both this van and the ones that followed, all familiar with dealing with these mutants should anything happen. She was armed with a special weapon, one that cost up to one million dollars to create. She had three bullets, so she knew she would have to make them count. The bullets would deliver ten incurable cancers through a pressurized delivery system. The affect would take hold instantly even if the mutant had a healing factor. Apparently they tested that theory on X-23. Whoever that was.

"Ma'am. We'll be arriving in two minutes." One soldier said over his shoulder, he hated having to drive in the same van as those freaks. They did nothing but creep him out.

"Fine. Okay mutants, let's get ready to go to work shall we?" Rachael stated clearly, making sure they all heard her even the one who had very small ears. She checked her weapon for the final time and made sure the new weapon with the cancer bullets was easy accessible.

She didn't expect them to say anything, but they did seem more alert and sat up straighter. Ready and willing to cause mayhem. She couldn't help but let a small smile escape her painted red lips. She looked out the window and spotted Weapon X with someone else, the aggravating and now getting in the way Sabretooth. Now that she had full access to the files, she knew exactly who the larger feral was. She couldn't help but sneer because of it. How sweet… She thought to herself, the bullets were meant for Sabretooth. Slow big brother down to gain access to the little brother who was the main target here.

She didn't have orders to capture Sabretooth. Which was fine, her problem and the source of her need for revenge was Weapon X himself. The van stopped, she was first off. And with the scope on her gun made her accuracy all the better. She aimed as the mutants were exiting the van and disappeared into the trees. They were no doubt going to come out behind them.

"Fire on my command." She ordered as others with larger guns then her more expensive guns aimed.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Logan let out a long snarl towards Sabretooth. This whole situation was stressing, and the fact that he didn't even know who this 'Jimmy' was if he even existed, wasn't helping at all. Not to mention, Sabretooth's attention was directed away from this situation. His attention was foolishly on Sabretooth rather then on what he probably should be paying attention to. Only when he heard a feminine voice command, "Fire!" followed by loud gunshots.

Sabretooth ducked, most missed him except for a few in his hip and stomach. Red instantly soaked the larger feral's hand and dripped to the ground as he crouched down to get out of the way of bullets. Logan was in the chest and throat. Red soaked his white thinning wife-beater and quickly running down to soak his jeans. Logan snarled. How dare they! How dare they shoot him! Claws still out and ready Logan was fully prepared to charge the wench. Rare did he consider woman in any other name aside from woman or girl, but this one was really starting to piss him off. Almost as much as that blue broad does. Mystique was her name; he only learnt it for one reason. He needed to know who to watch out for or kill should that action be required.

He took one step forward when a loud sound caused his body to crumple to the ground as his eardrums started to bleed from bursting painfully. Due to his keen senses he nearly blanked out, the only thing that kept him conscious was the feral blinding rage that was setting in quickly.

And even quicker he went from being Logan the asshole, to being Wolverine the berserker. And like a frenzied animal and ancient Norse warriors, he was uncontrollable when in this sort of rage. A thin line that might have existed between enemy and ally was completely gone in his blinded rage. Any words he could have said would only come out as growled imitations.

"Ba… mistake." Wolverine snarled, words blending together with the snarl. They asked for it! They deserve it! And Wolverine will deliver it personally!

Up on shaky feet, which only served to anger him further, Wolverine blindly attacked. His rage made him reckless, and reckless meant mistakes. His nose picked up the scents too late as he passed several trees in pursuit of his unseen enemy. Something burning hit him, and the pain only served to fuel his rage. He could see the shine of metal in his arms and knew instinctively that his ribs were now shining and exposed to the air. Wolverine only dimly noted that he was still burning, melting even.

Wolverine let out a roar and charged the enemy who attacked him with what he faintly recognized as acid, uncaring if the assailant struck him again. And only at this point did he notice that it was a mutant with a sadistic expression on her face as she shot more acid towards him. This time he dodged and kept charging her. Unaware of the vegetation around him being killed off by a poison that wasn't visible to the naked eye, or even to keen eyesight like his. Only the burning of his nose told him that something was wrong.

He was going to have to calm down; he was going to have to think this through. Wolverine broke off his charge and took off deeper into the forest where he stopped by a stream to wash the exposed injuries quickly, ignoring how they stung and took this time to surveillance his surroundings. Faintly he found himself concerned for Sabretooth, which was odd because this was the first time he ever remembered feeling concerned for that animal.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Victor Creed snarled angrily, unsure where 'Logan' was at the moment but his senses picked up the scent of blood. He had to remind himself that it was 'Logan's' blood and not 'Jimmy's' blood. Not his brothers. But that didn't kill the instincts he thought and hoped were long dead despite his half attempt to assist the fool. Victor dug the bullets out himself, ignoring the stinging bite of his claws as he did so. It didn't matter. It didn't.

Victor snarled angrily. His nose picked up the scent of mutants. Weapons. Snarling Victor cursed his brother for irrational behavior, which was a new one because it was always 'Jimmy' who was cursing him. Shaking his head he cursed at himself for making the mistake of considering the fool who took off in frenzy as his brother; make the mistake once and it never leaves. And Victor already dug that grave now. No going back.

He sprinted across the highway and ran on all fours towards the vans, dodging bullets as he did so. The frail, she was taking more care in aiming. Why? Victor managed to get behind a van before he could find out why, which was a good thing because he heard her curse at missing. Not to mention apparently those bullets were expensive. Why? Victor lightened his step as he itched towards the soldiers who were slowly creeping towards him. A cruel smile crossed his features as he met two of them.

"Good work soldiers." Victor sneered as his claws that were already stained with his own blood became the last thing the two soldiers saw as Victor introduced them to the afterworld personally. The blood sent him into a violent frenzy as he attacked every soldier that was within the area. Killing five of them within three minutes. He was good at what he did. He was shot a few times, but nothing happened.

But when he felt a bullet hit him square in the chest from the frail, he knew it was different. Pain erupted throughout his body and everything felt wrong, dangerously wrong.

"Cancer bullets, Mr. Creed. A gift from me to you." Rachael sneered as she watched as the affect took hold immediately. What she didn't count on was the rage she saw flash in those cold eyes, it reminded her of hatred only colder.

"You… You bitch… I'll kill you…" Victor gasped angrily as he struggled with his own weakening body as whatever those cancer bullets were exactly took his strength from him. He heard a few chuckles and snarled angrily. He only had the energy for one last attack. Only one. Reaching out with speed he somehow still possessed he took hold of her throat and squeezed.


	13. Chapter 13

Pain. Excruciating pain! Victor never imagined that cancer would cause so much agony, he barely had time to kill the frail before he had to limp off and figure out a way to escape and get that amnesiac uncontrolled fool who was now somewhere else altogether. Though first things first, himself. He had to get away. He had to heal! He hated that he could barely even crawl away. He could practically hear the soldiers following after him, murderous intentions each one of them. Guess they didn't like him killing the little frail like he did.

Victor dragged a gun with him and was fully prepared to use it; he was good with weapons just as he was good at using his claws. He couldn't bare looking at himself, he could see from his body the affects cancer was having on his skin, everything. The bullets didn't just put the cancer in one spot of his body it seemed to spread throughout his body as though he was shot a million times. Granted Victor wasn't also the greatest in how diseases worked, he never had to worry about them before.

He could hear choppers coming, and he knew they were military ones from the way they sounded and the speed they were coming. Usually he would be able to pick out what they were by that alone but he had other things to worry about. One thing was for sure, he could tell that there was chances of more soldiers.

"Lovely Creed. Wha' did ya get yourself into this time…" Victor complained with a pained gasp as he ducked into a cave to hide and wait the cancer out. He had no choice; he was no use to anything at the moment. Go figure, the first time he tried to be a nice he gets shot with a cancer bullet. He's never being nice again. He did feel better at being able to shoot at the soldiers hunting him, each of them getting killed on first or second shot.

Victor aimed where it would cause a slow death. A painful death. Sometimes he simply aimed for the heads or the crotches.

"… take care of anyone who gets in our way…"

His words. He knew that too be a fact, take care of anyone who gets in their way. And Victor could do that, despite the pain in his body he smiled cruelly and he kept shooting. Though the pain and the sheer need to kill them managed to distract him for a split second before he heard the dooming sound of something being shot towards him. His only thought before it hit and a loud explosion rang in his ears and erupted his every nerve ending with even more pain was, shit…

He could feel himself get thrown back, but the impact against the deeper parts of the cave was more numb then anything. And for once, he was grateful for the numbness. Not so much for the loss of light as the explosion caused the entrance of the cave he took refuge in ended up caving in on itself. That meant he wouldn't be able to go through with his plan, he wouldn't be able to kill 'Logan' and get his brother back like a good brother should.

'Logan' was on his own now. Echo's of his own words he spoke that day seemed to replay themselves in pieces and as whole. The day he declared Jimmy as his brother, because they were brothers. By blood, by pack.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Wolverine panted angrily as he kept his body flat against a large bolder. There was more then the two that originally attacked him with both sound and acid. The vegetation in the area was completely dead and his lungs hurt from breathing in whatever he was breathing in. It was most likely a poison of some sort. He wouldn't be surprised if his appearance showed that he was starting to feel the affects of the poison.

Not only that, his healing factor was starting to get dangerously overused and that left him more vulnerable to the affect of that poison. In the end that was what led him to this position in the first place, a position of hiding. He needed to catch his breath and think; there were at least four mutants who were either emotionless or sadistic hunting him down. He couldn't touch them because unfortunately one of the mutants who was attacking him mutation was creating walls of sorts, force field's he figured which made it next to impossible for him to get to them. So he would have to figure out a way to separate them and pick them off one by one.

Snarling angrily Wolverine tightened his fists and took off, dodging acid as it was thrown at him. They followed. Wolverine let out a grim smile as he weaved through tree's leading deeper and deeper into the forest. Good luck in fishing him out of the forest at this point. They were in his terrain, and faintly he wondered about Sabretooth. His thought's despite how teetering they were between his barely held rationality and the berserker or animal as he known it as, were put into further turmoil as pain filled his body as acid ate into his back revealing a metallic spin and ribs.

Wolverine hit the ground and hard. His mind was barely able to focus on anything at the moment and he let out an angry roar while he forced himself back to his feet and ducking around a tree. His back was still melting! And he had to smother another cough as vegetation died here as well. The one who seemed to have been causing the poison was too close, and away from the force field creating mutant.

Wolverine lunged, sinking his claws deep into the chest cavity of that mutant who for a split second looked almost grateful. Wolverine frowned at that as he let the body drop from his clawed grip. Wolverine let out a grim but cruel grin as a response to the slight shock the mutants who were hunting him.

"'ats right clowns." Wolverine growled out, they knew they were vulnerable to him. And they knew that they had to step up their game, and they had to do it fast before Wolverine finished them as well.

They attacked, Wolverine dodged. Ignoring how his flesh hurt badly as his innards were becoming liquid like the rest of his flesh. It wasn't until he started to lose mobility did he take further notice in it, and thanks to their rash thinking the force field wielding one managed to use that force field to fling him back a few yards and into water. Usually you would require a little bit more then simply water, but with his healing factor it helped stop the effects and start the healing sooner then later. Thankfully.

And swimming to a more secluded spot on the river was a chore in itself; after all you try to swim with an anvil on your back plus injuries. In fact it was a struggle to just be able to stay up enough to breathe when his injuries made mobility harder and so his metal was dragging him underwater easier. Snarling angrily he stayed low to the ground, army style. The way he was taught by experiences unknown to him. But he must have done it enough that it was drilled right into his instincts. And that gave him an advantage at the moment in figuring out where they were by scent, hearing and eyesight.

They were north-east from his position and moving in his general direction. He could use that to his advantage, there was no time to really plan for Guerrilla-Tactics but one. No direct conflict with a large group, and in doing it that way he could by chance tire them out enough for them to call off pursuit. And three was considered large in his situation given their abilities of sound, force field and acid. The poison one was killed or dying. Most likely killed though, after all Wolverine was very good at what he did and that always set him apart from other people.

_"Trust me, I've been through worse." He said, his bare body on a cold slab with the sounds of people working around him and the knowledge of water beneath him. He agreed to this. He wanted to get revenge. And he regretted that he had to_

_"No you haven't." A young doctor said blond and close to emotionless eyes of someone who was strictly a doctor stared back at him. If he wanted to he could have probably found regret there, but that would have felt false. So he left it as is._

Logan shook his head angrily as he moved quietly along, he didn't know what that was or what he was seemingly agreeing to but he decided that he obviously didn't know what he was getting into at the time and at this point didn't care. He had more important things to tend to then play with teasing memories hinted at his life before he lost his memories.

They were pretty much right on him, Wolverine grinned savagely with bared teeth and all. The force-field one was the closest and was facing away from his position. If Wolverine's theory of him actually having to consciously make force-fields is correct, he'd be dead in less then a minute and the rest of them would follow. If he was right, the rest of this nonsense would be a walk in the park.

Wolverine lunged, claws out and a roar befitting a bear. He was right, his claws sunk deep into the back of the force-field creating mutant and with a twist the mutant dropped dead. Unfortunately despite the fact that this surprised the other two and he got them good on the arms he missed vitals and they retaliated. Foolish! Wolverine growled inwardly to himself as he barely dodged behind a tree, his body was being eaten at again.

Then the one who wielded sound like a deadly weapon attacked. There was no hiding from that attack. Wolverine couldn't tell if it was a buzzing sound or a screeching sound or both. But it hurt his ears and it made everything feel wrong. His balance was something that was affected by this attack and his ability to concentrate and unlike the first time when his rage helped him out, this time his healing factor slowed him down due to his injuries and exhaustion.

Wolverine fell to one knee while holding his ears desperately he could feel liquid coming from them. Wolverine snarled angrily and helplessly. He'll kill them for this! By the time everything went quite, he realized much to his horror he was temporarily deaf. He could tell that he gave out a roar, but he couldn't know by hearing only by feel. He attacked them again, angrily. Blindly. His balance was slightly off due to his inexperience with not being able to hear anything and for someone like him whose hearing was very good to the point where he could hear the smallest of things that others couldn't. It took a nastier toll on him.

During the attack he took the head clean off the sound creating mutant with cruel pleasure, after all no one's ever said he was a nice guy. He may be the good guy but he wasn't your Captain America kind of type. Unfortunately that left a wide open space for the acid one to attack. And because of that he got a face full of acid.

Pain and thinking, _oh fuck…_ Was the last thing he remembered before everything went black. He wasn't aware of the life threatening injury he managed to give the acid controlling one before he crumpled to the ground practically melting on the spot.


	14. Chapter 14

Victor barely managed to bring himself out of his own tomb made of rubble and dirt from where he was trapped within the cave he used for cover. They shot a damn missile at him! That's the little he remembered, and it took him a good while to heal enough to dig himself free. It was raining, and cold. But he barely noticed it, even though only his pants seemed to have made it but only barely. They hung off his body due to the amount of tears in them.

Snarling he staggered away from the cave, his body free of the cancer but riddled with open wounds and sores from his attempt at freedom and picking out rocks and other things he'd rather not think about. It was a cave after all, and it was probably used by animals for a lot of things. His hair was matted with blood and dirt, and four claws broken because of his desperation and constant digging through thick rocks and dirt.

No one was near. Sniffing the air, the only fresh scents he could pick up were those of animals. Walking towards the road he noticed that there were no longer signs of what happened. The building that used to be a gas station was nothing more then a burnt out shell, made no doubt to look like an accident. His brother, that stranger, was no where in sight.

How long was he out for?

The sound of a car drew his attention from the building and the general area to a multi colored van. A long haired man looked concerned and jumped out of the van.

"Dude, you okay." The man said. Victor frowned at him, his mind was hazy enough that he barely even registered what he said for a good few minutes. Only after the man repeated what he said a good few or more times did Victor clear his mind enough to push back the blinding rage to turn to the man fully.

"No, you see. I got this, problem. I don't know what day it is. I don't know what happened 'fter I pretty much got shot with a fuckin' missile. And now I'm on a god damn road with a past his age hippie who reeks of who knows what. An' that's with my nose. So no, I ain't okay. Okay?" Victor snarled angrily as he looked around.

The animal in him was just as cornered and angry as he was. It told him to kill the man. To run. To feed. To heal. To reap revenge for what happened to him!

A hand on his shoulder was what triggered him to lose control of himself and with a roar he swung one open fingered hand at the man's face. Claws cutting easily while broken claws tearing flesh. Screams, a baby crying. Family? Who? Victor only managed to focus enough to know that the people screaming, crying and babbling useless words that were failing to register were the family members of the man left twitching on the road. Alive or dead?

Licking his lips, much like how a cat would when hungry Victor stalked closer to the van, the door was slammed shut but that didn't stop him. His mind may be too far in a haze brought on by anger and pain, but he knew enough to figure out how to open the door. Snarling angrily, he must have had a wild look in his eyes because the fear he smelt among the other scents became the dominant scent and only grew.

~_~ Next Section – Poor Hippie Man ~_~

Pain. That was all he could think of, he could barely see out of one eye but he knew what he heard. Screaming! His wife, his daughter and his baby boy were all crying and screaming. The van was shaking, whatever that man was. He was a monster, he knew that now. He never liked to judge people by their appearances, and because of that he ignored the feeling of just keep driving and the danger vibe he got from the mangled looking man with claws.

He never saw someone so wounded before in his life. And claws, broken claws and blood. Lots of blood. How could someone have that much blood on them and walking around?

Silence.

 _Oh God… Oh Sweet Mother of God… They're dead… We're dead._ Was the only thought he could have at the moment before everything went dark as he passed out from blood loss.

~_~ Next Section ~_~

Two day's later

Victor ended up ditching the van, and the bodies four miles back now. His mind clearer then what it was before, and found himself numb to the fact that he just resorted to cannibalism on the hippie family. Including the infant, even Victor didn't know he could fall to that level. Victor could honestly say this time he didn't mean to. Well, not eat them or kill the infant. After all, even Victor wasn't that low.

"Shit…" Victor swore to himself, he was as clean as he could get himself and the cloths he stole from one of the briefcases was as clean as he could expect from a traveling family. The jeans were loose on him; the guy was tubby around his waist. And Victor was lean due to his body being mostly muscle. So it wasn't easy finding pants that won't slide down every time he moved. The belt came in handy until he got tired of the buckle of a peace symbol mocking him.

His claws were fully grown; some of them looked whiter then the rest due to being new. But that won't last long. It never does.

Searching for traces of his brother he couldn't find anything. It was like his brother dropped off the face of the earth.

_"We stick together, no matter what, and take care of anyone who gets in our way."_

"Shut up…" Victor snarled angrily to himself as he sped up due to that anger. He hated how his own conscious was now being a royal pain in the ass at the moment. It was rubbing in his face that he failed to do what he wanted to do; he failed to protect his younger brother. And not to mention his own damn memory was conspiring with his conscious at the moment just to piss him off further.

He wasn't a good guy, despite his conscious annoying the hell out of him. Far from it, but blood was thicker then water. And that was the only reason his conscious was even being acknowledged and that was the only reason it came into play. The rest of the damn world can rot in the gutter for all he cared, hell he'll help it get there if it entertained him enough.

In was that conscious, for a sibling who barely remembered anything, that kept him driving and looking. Even though nothing was turning up.

It left one tasteless option. The guy his brother was working for temporarily, if Victor remembered correctly. Xavier. From what he knew, and found out this guy was the most powerful psychic on the planet. And he'd rather deal with him then the well aged white frail who walks around in outdated styles for an aging body. He'd break her because of her arrogance and miss-prissy personality.

So it was the bald guy who will help Victor find his sibling. If not, psychic or not, Victor would kill him where he sat. With that plan stuck in his mind he changed lanes and started to head towards Winchester New York. It would take him a month to get there at this point much to his dismay, but there was no way he could get a flight and he was too far from New York to get there any quicker even with a sports car going it's fastest.

Damn…

Not only will it take forever to get there, but he was getting the feeling that things were about to get worse from here on out. For him. For his brother, he knew that for a fact. And for whomever else gets caught up in this annoying mess. Why couldn't 'Jimmy' be more like him, they wouldn't have separated back then and this situation wouldn't have even come close to happening. They would be doing well in life, Victor was sure of that fact. But of course his brother had to be all goody-goody like and look what happened!


	15. Final Chapter

The trip was a long one with how many times he's had to switch vehicles or stay in hiding or out of sight because of authorities out to get him for more then one reason. The hippie family was just the final straw that set them off. His face was posted everywhere. He couldn't even go to a small out of the way gas station to refill his tank or get a little something to eat without seeing his own face mocking him. The bolded letters described him as wanted and extremely dangerous and not to approach.

People were more afraid of him because of that, and for once that wasn't a good thing. It made things rather difficult to get even half way to New York where he knew he would find the damn bald headed punching bag who was going to assist him in finding where they took his brother. If he didn't, the life of the kids there would work beautifully as bribing tokens. So the cripple would see to it to protect those children and find 'Jimmy'.

By the time he got there he cursed that it was over a month and a half. And part of that was done on foot. At least that part of the journey wasn't so troublesome. He made better time then, but he had no choice but to use a vehicle sometimes. Vehicles just helped more then his own two feet, not that he hasn't walked long distances before. He has, both him and his brother had. It was where Victor found most of his best memories, when it was just two brothers walking in a random direction. No rules, no people and no civilized society and the stress it always brought.

Frowning angrily he dodged a New York cop who happened to look in his direction. Victor snarled to himself but kept going. In the end he took too the rooftops, thankfully not running into some pansy wearing a spider costume. Spider-boy or whatever. He'll kill the punk if he caused any form of trouble. Victor's heard of the skinny bug, and new by instinct he would be annoying. Perhaps even more annoying then Wade and that would be something right there.

Victor's stomach growled angrily, he'll have to get something to eat sooner rather then later. But after he gets there, and he wasn't too far off either. The closer he got the less he took to the rooftops, it was becoming difficult anyways and drawing too much attention. Still it cut some of his traveling time in half.

Victor almost smiled in relief but crushed that down quickly as he lightened his step out of habit so no one will have the chance of hearing him coming. Any relief he might have felt was instantly gone as he noticed damage done to the tall walls that were standing around the large property where the mansion sat usually in a mockingly dignified manner. Now however he could spot damage done to the mansion as well through a crack in the wall. Scaling it he crouched on top of the wall noticing broken windows. Frowning he was honestly confused on why the mansion looked so damaged, setting his hands down to steady himself he felt grooves on the edge of the wall on the inside. Unnatural grooves.

Looking down he found three deep grooves on either side of him. Like the grooves were made by someone who had knife like hand held weapons tough enough to scratch solid stones and concrete. No, these ain't no knife weapons… Victor thought as he crouched down in a manner were his hands could easily touch the area where the grooves were, or more correctly the claw marks were. A perfect crouch.

"Jimmy's…" Victor said to himself. It was like Jimmy was right here, and clawed the wall as he set off of it. Dropping to the ground he crouched down again, he found the spot where Jimmy most likely landed and from his view point he could tell his brother took off towards the mansion. And not in a friendly manner either. He followed the path right to a broken window that looked like it was slashed out of the way. Blood. His brother's blood, cut on the glass on the floor as his brother no doubt entered. Wasn't he wearing shoes? Victor thought as he entered the building the same way.

He may look like he was blindly following the path his brother may have gone but he was fully aware of who lived here. And he knew that they would know he was here at this point. A perk no doubt of living with the most powerful psychic on the planet.

Victor snarled to himself, the walls the doors were all clawed and blood stained the floors and walls. Some on the ceiling. And most of it wasn't his brothers, some of it was. But only a little bit. He heard talking, his name was mentioned and that made it painfully clear they knew and were waiting for him. Snarling angrily he stalked down the hall, not caring to dodge the blood on the floor. It was dry already so he didn't care much.

"Hello Mr. Creed. I wish I could say it's a pleasure, but unfortunately this isn't the best time for pleasantries." Victor heard the psychic say from the room, all talking stopped. Victor huffed in annoyance; the man really did like his dramatics. Without hesitation Victor entered the room, noting that the main people there were the main members of the X-Men no doubt.

"Thought this was a school, where's the kids." Victor asked, not really caring about the children at all. But it took a bargaining chip away from him. Left him having to come up with something new.

"Safe. What brings you here?" Professor Xavier asked, caution clearly heard in his voice as he eyed the tired and most likely hungry mutant in front of him. But he made no mistake to himself, even tired and hungry Victor Creed better known as Sabretooth was a threat. He'll play his cards cautiously.

Victor already knew that the damage was no doubt done by his brother, but what was slightly shocking was how knocked down a few pegs the X-Saints were. It was obvious they got their asses kicked. But the question was this, was it one person or several. So a new idea formed in his head, one that may be annoying and time consuming. Hell it might even give him a few aneurisms while he was here. But one thing was probably the most obvious; his brother would have never attacked a place like this with the threat of kids being around so that meant he was being controlled somehow. Seething lightly at the fact that his brother was used as a mere attack dog by mere humans who were nothing more then prey to bigger and worse animals like himself and his brother. That and his brother was no dog!

"What brings me here? That's simple, I want to help you simple folk's in this nasty situation." Victor casually said, testing the water slightly as he sat down without invitation. No one stopped him, they obviously were too wary of him and his intentions. Not to mention probably a bit too tired to fight, they did look dog tired.

"And at what price might that be?" Hank calmly asked, knowing there was probably always a price with this man. And his life experiences told him to play cautiously when dealing with someone like this man.

"To get back at those assholes. Which you won't have any objections to, after they nearly destroyed your precious school and killed your precious kids." Victor pointed out, keeping his voice dripping with mockery. Better to mock then to give away his hands at the moment, but he knew that his hand would be forced soon because the psychic was no slouch even without his powers. Annoying breakable bag of flesh anyways.

"Is that all?" Scott nearly growled out, he remembered who this man was. He remembered being chased down by this monster when he was just a boy, and his mutation just taking hold. His brother's lack of presence in his life also added to the stress back then. And it still does, there was plenty of animosity between them still.

"No Scott, there's more. It has to do with Logan, doesn't it?" Professor Xavier calmly pointed out, from the brief glimpses he gained from Victor as he trespassed on private property and entered this school he knew for a fact that although what he said was the truth it wasn't the whole truth.

"Why would Logan be important to you? You two are enemies." Rogue asked, confusing muddling with her accent well enough to make it more pronounced. She didn't know for a fact, the little bit of Logan in her had few good memories and no memories to hint on his past.

Silence fell at that point, Victor had two choices. Come clean or don't. If he came clean, the secret would be out and there was no going back. Things would change. If he didn't, he couldn't guarantee these losers co-operation. And he already foresaw himself having his hand forced in a manner.

Licking his lips lightly he toyed with his fangs before leaning back in his seat eyeing them as though he was daring them to object and fight what he was going to say. His decision was made.

"Simple. Logan isn't Logan. His name is actually James Howlett, and James is my baby brother." Victor explained with a growl, daring them to refute what he said and start something dangerous with him. Something they won't be walking away from. He was a tad bit possessive with his brother, simply because they were brothers. Which unfortunately gave Wade a lot of humorless jokes. Incest was brought up, it took the rest of the team to calm both him and his brother down they both were disgusted with the idea. He still wants to kill Wade for those jokes.

Shock went through the room; no one could understand why Victor would act as an enemy to an amnesiac brother all this time and only come forward now. But truth was he was only coming forward now because he saw his brother inside of Logan this time. Those memories were coming back; his brother was waking up and wouldn't be Logan anymore but James.

"My goddess, your his brother." Ororo whispered to herself, she usually was the calm and collected one. She had to be, but she couldn't help but stifle a quiet sob to herself. Logan had a brother who constantly tried to hurt him, and worse Logan couldn't remember that the person who tried to hurt him was actually a brother. And now that brother was sitting comfortably amongst them, a part of her wanted to lash out at him for it. But she held herself off. For now.

"'at's what I said sweetheart." Victor confirmed, smirking at her obvious disgust at him calling her sweetheart. But his smirk disappeared as he turned and faced the bald headed cripple again and saying,

"So. We got somethin' goin' here." He was going to play nice with these losers for now or until he gets what he wants. Whether they like it or not! He can be quite forceful when he wants to be.

"Very well Mr. Creed. Welcome aboard, at this point all we locate Logan before there is any getting back at anyone. He is our top priority." Professor Xavier confirmed, having that feeling that they were going to clash with the man many times and a good few fights were going to happen amongst them. Not to mention he knew for a fact that this wasn't a permanent thing, once Victor Creed gets what he wants he'll be both against them again and gone. Still, he could use the help and he knew Victor had knowledge that could come in handy.

A big part of Victor couldn't believe he was actually going to go through with this. His brother damn well be happy and grateful for this!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a sequel to this called "Weapon X: Man or Animal" and I will get it up as soon as I can, I'm not finished it and it's on Fanfiction.net lol. Hope you enjoyed this story I really did enjoy writing it even though it's not perfect, nothing I write is perfect but I enjoy it anyway.


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